Last Days of Summer (14 page)

Joey,

Me and Stuke and some of the boys are going to eat at the Union Oyster House and after that see the new Cagney picture in Cambridge if we can get in. I will be back by 11:30. You can have dinner downstairs whenever you want and I already told them in the dining room the things your not allowed to eat such as ice cream Sundays instead of peas and etc. Also Charlie MacCarthy is on the radio tonight or instead you can go and listen to the piano player in the lobby. But the doorman knows your not suppose to leave the hotel so don't get any ideas.

Charlie

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Dear Hornet,

The Brown Shirts are holding me prisoner at the Boston Statler Hotel. This place is crawling with them and now they've got me cornered.

Charlie stranded me here even though the whole team went to see
Strawberry Blonde
with Cagney in it. What a spoil sport. Just because I didn't know all the answers yet. What a sap. I tried to climb down the fire escape because there's a vaudeville house next door, and they're always easy to sneak into when you make your eyes cry and tell the usher that you lost your parents in the crowd and you need to get in and find them. But the doorman from the hotel was waiting for me on the pavement because Charlie already tipped him off. What a
goop. The only thing to do here is count the squares on the ceiling (128) and the windows with lights on in the building across the street (211), or go downstairs and listen to some no-nothing piano player who never heard of anything newer than “Alexander's Rag Time Band” for Pete's sake. Even Bergen and McCarthy stunk on the radio.

But there was a brawl today, and I was in it. How it happened was this. Jim Tobin was pitching for Boston and Phil Masi was catching. When Stuke came up in the 6th he was looking for a long ball, but he must have been looking too hard because he kept leaning all the way over the plate and Tobin brushed him back on his butt twice. So Stuke got up and gave the four-finger signal to Tobin which in case you don't know means “One more time and the bat goes up your ass.” Then Masi said to him “Aw, pipe down and act your age.” Then Stuke said to Masi “How's your wife and my kid?” Then Masi said “Fuck you, shit-head.” Then Stuke pulled Masi's mask all the way out and let it snap back on his face. Then Masi said “Ow” and everybody ran out of the dugouts and bleeding started. I got right in the middle of the whole pile and I was kicking Paul Waner on the leg when all of a sudden a hand reached in and grabbed the back of my belt. I thought I was finally going to get to tap somebody on the conk, but it was only Charlie. What a sour puss. He yanked me into the dugout in one yank and put me in a broom closet until it was over. But I still got poked in my right ribs by Babe Dahlgren's elbow and it hurt like Hell. It was
great
.

IF MY FATHER WERE PRESIDENT

BY
J
OSEPH
M
ARGOLIS

I think my father's presidency would be the kind of an administration where

If my father were president he would be too busy to take me places but guess what? He doesn't anyway. Ha-ha.

If my father were president he would be a Republican and there would probably be another Depression as soon as he

If my father had Fireside Chats but threw Nana Bert in the fireplace first,

If my father were president

Dear Toots,

Me and Stuke just spent 2½ hrs. sitting in a bar and killing time until 11:30 so the kid would think we were really eating lobsters and seeing Cagney without him and etc., and maybe he would get down to brass tax and learn his part so we would not leave him out again. But the bar had a juke box in it and I heard you on it 4 times. Including “Small Hotel”. Do you remember? You had on black with the silver crisscrosses and you sang the whole thing to me even though Gary Cooper was there too. That was the first time I knew you were going to say yes. So I guess you can say that Joey wasn't the only one who got reminded of something tonight.

Right now he is fast asleep and it is tough to figure out from looking at him with his eyes closed where somebody that little comes up with so much moxie. Even when he is conked out you can see that his head is still working (which come to think of it is a little scary). All it makes me want to do is knock his old man's block off.

Today he made a big click with the Bees (or Braves or whatever in Hell they are calling themself this year). The ump behind the plate was Jocko Conlan who is the kind of square-off-the-shoulder guy that if he said the earth was flat, I would probably have to figure that it was C. Columbus who did not have all his dogs on the leash. So in the 3rd inning I swung on a 2 and 2, which was the first thing Harlan taught me I should never do off a puffin like J. Tobin. But I did it anyway. The ball was down here and I was up there and Conlan said “So
long Charlie.” But before I could throw my bat on the ground, there was Joey (who maybe comes up to Conlan's ankle) saying such things as “Hey you ump. What kind of a call was that?” and “Where are your glasses?” and “Do you need a cane too?” and etc. So Conlan put his hands onto his hipbones the same way he does when he is really sore and he pointed a finger at Joey and said “Say you. One more word like that and it is time for the showers.” By now they were belly to farhead and the Bees were laughing so hard we could of walked a bunt into a slam. But Joey was really hot under the coller, so he kicked the dirt two times and said “Don't let it happen again or you'll be in Very Serious Trouble.” And when he got back to the bench and punched the wall, the Bees gave him a big hand.

Then in the 6th, Stuke was up and started another scrap due to saying such things to P. Masi as “I fucked your wife” and etc. Before I could get to Joey, he was in the middle of that too. But P. Waner for the Bees was keeping an eye on him just in case and he even let the kid kick him a couple times until I got there. Then he handed him off to me.

He better get on the ball soon. I didn't tell him yet but there is a Glenn Miller show in Chic. that I want to take him to. I hope I do not have to leave him in the room and pretend I went without him.

It's 2:43 and I can't sleep because I am still hearing “Small Hotel” in my head.

Charlie

New York Giants

BATBOY: Margolis PARK: Crosley Field, Cincinnati

—C
HECK
L
IST
—

ALL ITEMS MUST BE COMPLETED ONE HOUR PRIOR TO GAME TIME.

N
OTES:

Joey,

Mickey Witek got us some tickets to the Andrews Sisters show tonight at the Palladiam, though I cannot figure out why they would want to sing in a shit-hole such as Cincy. Since we do not have a game tomorrow, Mister Terry says we can stay out til 1:00 in the A.M. but I want you to be asleep when I get back. I will try not to wake you up.

They have 2 different places to eat in this hotel so take your pick. The one with the skelaton over it is called The Pirates Cove and their steak is the best in Cincy. Which is not saying much. There is also a news-stand downstairs in case you want a Detective Comic or something.

Charlie

Dear Goodlookin',

You and Joey made the front pages of the
Mirror
, the
Telegram
and the
Trib
. He's sliding into third, you're tagging him out, and Conlan's calling him safe. (The papers didn't say whose idea it was, but it has Stuke written all over it.) Go on, admit it—the real game wasn't nearly as much fun. You fraud. If Winchell ever found out what a softy you are, he'd run you out of town. By the way, when is somebody going to admit that you haven't lost a game since you put the kid in a uniform? Or is that one of those superstitions that girls aren't supposed to understand? I was listening to the third inning between shows and they said Derringer seemed a little rattled. Whose choice was that—his or Joey's?

Mayor LaGuardia took the First Lady to see
Panama Hattie
tonight and afterwards he invited the entire cast to the club. Including Merman. As usual, that braying jackass wouldn't shut up until somebody asked her to sing—which I could have lived with if she hadn't snapped her fingers at me in front of Mrs. Roosevelt and said, “Miss, can you bring me a Horse's Neck?” Anything you wish, dearie. They're not usually made with cayenne pepper, but they were tonight. One verse of “I Got Rhythm” and they had to call a broomstick for the old bag.

I'd tell you there's a crescent moon outside that reminds me of the first walk we ever took together, except that it's been raining for six hours and if this keeps up we may need a few pointers from your friend Noah.

So close your eyes and pretend I just kissed you. Because that's what I'm doing.

-H-

P.S. I decided that Ida Margolis needed a new summer dress—whoever sold her that green thing should have been shot. So we spent most of the afternoon on Fifth Avenue and had high tea at the Plaza. Did you know that her father was the mayor of a Russian village until the pogroms forced them out? And incidentally, Aunt Carrie is a dream. Anyone who says otherwise just doesn't know how to talk to her.

Dear Carrie:

I can't thank you enough for helping me pick out the broach. I have no courage at all when it comes to jewelry, and if I'd been by myself I probably would have chosen pearls again.

I hope you didn't mind my asking your advice on how to handle Charlie, but he speaks of you constantly. If I can only learn how to keep him in line the way you do, maybe you'll be helping me choose a wedding ring instead.

Fondly,
Hazel

Dear Charles,

Whatever you could be thinking, you should cut your tongue out for it. To leave a lovely girl like Hazel alone in a place like New York is a sin. And to let her work for a living even. So what's in Cincinnati that you haven't got here? A ball game? You listen to me. When you're ten years old and you want to play third base it's cute. At your age it's not so becoming.

I'm not going to bring it up again. You won't hear another word from me. But a young lady of quality doesn't come along very often. You think God doesn't have better things to do than wait on line until you're satisfied? 48 years I'm here and I can promise you one thing: if you lose her, let it be on your head.

The subject is closed.

Aunt Carrie