Modern Screen (Jan-Jun 1945)

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iiiff |ltd,|tiii but ft ill Itiiln ■Yesterday, Al Delacorte called me on the phone, "Frank," he said, "I know you're a busy guy. But would you like to ... I mean would you be willing to speak a little piece about Christmas on our readers' page? You see . . ." I cut in. "Sure I see. And if I'm busy, so what? I love Christmas. I love your readers. And, if you must know, I love MODERN SCREEN!" So here I am — a writer! I ought to call this the "Revenge of Frank Sinatra." All this year (not to mention last year) , everyone has been too nice to me. Everything has come my way. I've been dying for this chance to get back and tell how I feel about you ... at Christmas. I'm a pushover for Christmas. I go for the tall, sweetsmelling trees, the tinsel balls, the puddings and eggnog — even Crosby's "Silent Night." But above all, I cherish the thought that Christmas is the day dedicated to friendship. These days, when hatred is still fighting crazily for its dictatorship, it is good to know that the sacred legend of Christmas is alive in the hearts of Americans: Peace on earth. Good will toward men. My one regret this Christmas will be that I cannot go to each loyal friend and say, "You've been wonderful. Merry Christmas* And God bless you!" P.S. If I were to get a Christmas card from you (addressed to Modern Screen), I'd not only be tickled * silly. I'd be deeply touched.