Radio-TV mirror (July-Dec 1952)

SEPT. WOMEN For advertisers! Write for information to Publishers Classified Dept., 9 S. Clinton St., Chicago 6. SALESWOMEN WANTED ANYONE CAN SELL Hoover DuPont Nylon Uniforms for beauty shops, waitresses, doctors, nurses, others. In white and colors. Exclusive styles. Top quality. Low priced. Exceptional income. Real future. Equipment free. Write fully. Hoover, Dept. P-119, New York 11, N.Y. EARN BIG MONEY fast! Sell finest-quality advertising work uniforms to garages, factories, filling stations, etc. Free selling kit. Topps, Dept. 909, Rochester, Indiana. BUSINESS OPPORTUNITIES INVISIBLE REWEAVING — BIG profits, easy-to-learn low-cost complete course — nothing else to buy — ever. Details free, write: Fabricon. 8340 S. Frairie, Chicago 19, 111. EARN EXTRA MONEY weekly mailing Circulars for advertisers. Complete instructions — 25c. Siwaslian, 4317 F Gleane Street, Klmhurst 73, N.Y. MAKE YOUR TYPEWRITER Earn Money. Send SLOP — Hughes, 7004 Diversey, Chicago. PHOTO FINISHING FILM DEVELOPED, 8 enlarged prints — 25c (Trial) Willard's. Box 3535F, Cleveland, Ohio. MATERNITY WEAR MATERNITY STYLES. WRITE for free catalog showing entire maternity wardrobe. S2.95 to S22.50. Crawford's, Dept. 28, 729 Baltimore, Kansas City. Missouri. AUTHORS SERVICE I WANT NEW Writers. Earn at home, spare time. Details Free. Saunders M. Cummings, 468-69 Independence Bldg., Colorado Springs, Colo. HOME SEWERS WANTED MAKE MONEY — SEW Ready-Cut Baby Shoes at home. New Idea. Direct from Manufacturer. Amazingly Profitable. Starting Kit only 50c. Liebig Industries, Beaver Dam 10, Wisconsin. AGENTS WANTED HUGE PROFITS. ASSEMBLE Rhinestone Jewelry. Sample kit SI. 79. You sell for $6.50. Wholesale Catalog 20c. House of Hobbies, Box 790H, Evanston, 111. MAKE MONEY SELLING men's ties. Free catalog. Philip's Neckwear, Dept. 933. 20 West 22nd Street, N. Y. NEW PLASTIC MENDING tape. Just press on! Repairs clothing instantly. Lightning seller. Samples sent on trial. Kristee 313, Akron, Ohio. FEMALE HELP MAKE MONEY INTRODUCING world's cutest children's dresses. Big selection, adorable styles. Low prices. Complete display free. Rush name. Harford, Dept. H-2359, Cincinnati 25, O. SELL FINEST NYLON hosiery Guaranteed against everything, snags, runs, holes. Demonstration kit Free to you with actual sample stocking. American Mills, Dept. K-35, Indianapolis. CALL ON FRIENDS with sensational Christmas Cards in handy assortments. Price, SI. 00. Profit up to 50c. Also popular-priced Personal Christmas Cards, Everyday Assortments, etc. Samples on approval. Wallace Brown, Dept. R-42. New York 10, N.Y. ABSOLUTELY FREE! BIG package actual sample fabrics and style presentation of dresses, lingerie, hosiery, etc. Take orders. Commissions big. Send no money. Mel ville Co., Dept. 7509. Cincinnati 25, Ohio. LADIES— S30 WEEKLY Making Studio Roses at home. Easy. Looks, smells real. Write StudioCo.,Greenvllle6, Pa. SELL DRESSES FROM New York, Fifth Ave. New York firm desires women to sell dresses, suits, lingerie. Seen "Vogue", "Mademoiselle". Good commissions. Write for Fashion Album. Modern Manner, 260PW Fifth Avenue, New York. OLD GOLD & JEWELRY WANTED HIGHEST CASH PAID for Old, Broken Jewelry, Gold Teeth, Watches, Diamonds, Silverware, Spectacles. Free information. Satisfaction Guaranteed. Rose Smelting Company. 29-DD East Madison. Chicago. EDUCATIONAL OPPORTUNITIES "HOW TO MAKE Money with Simple Cartoons" — A book everyone who likes to draw should have. It is free; no obligation. Simply address Cartoonists' Exchange, Dept. 689, Pleasant Hill, Ohio. MAKE UP TO S55 Week as a Practical Nurse. Learn quickly at home. Booklet free. Chicago School of Nursing, Dept. PW-8, Chicago. LEARN MILLINERY AT Home. Blocks, materials sent. Booklet free. Louie Miller School, Dept. M30. 1400 Greenleaf, Chicago. OF INTEREST TO WOMEN OUTDOOR TOILETS, CESSPOOLS, Septic Tanks cleaned, deodorized, with amazing new product. Just mix dry powder with water; pour Into toilet. Safe, no poisons. Save digging, pumping costs. Postcard brings free details. Burson Laboratories, Dept. J-96, Chicago 22, Illinois. DEFINITELY PROFITABLE HOME business. Make clever, fast-selling, chenille monkey trees. Literature free. Velva. Bohemia 32, N.Y. FREE INFORMATION FOR pleasure and profit. Virlllo, Box 507, North Hollywood, California. UNHAPPY — take out superfluous unwanted hair in your own home. Destroy hair root so hair cannot grow again. Our method can bring you happiness & hairfree joy. Lechler-560P.S. — Broadway, New York. PERSONAL BORROW BY MAIL. Loans S50 to S600 to employed men and women. Easy, Quick. Completely confidential. No endorsers. Repay In convenient monthly payments. Details free in plain envelope. Give occupation. State R ■ Finance Co., 323 Securities Bldg., Dept. P-69, Omaha 2, Nebr. ifl 84 OLD COINS WANTED WE PURCHASE INDIANHEAD pennies. Complete allcoin catalog 20c. Magnacoins, Box 61-0, Whitestone 57, New York. ever listened to his records. Emphatically, they turned their backs. Fred Robbins, the New York disc jockey, heard of his plight. He also knew, from requests for numbers, how popular Mel had become with his own generation. Fred, who had dubbed him "The Velvet Fog," started spinning Mel's platters and talking it up. Down came the kids, in droves. Coke sales at the Copa jumped. When Mel sang "Making Whoopee" as a slow torch tune, his fans pushed doormen and regular customers out of the way to hear him. I discovered other things about Mel, during those days in Hollywood when we saw each other every evening. He was sincere and honest and real. He didn't gamble, he didn't drink, he didn't smoke. We didn't run around. The few times we did go to night clubs, it was usually to hear some orchestra we knew and liked. I could always count on three things happening on such dates. First, Mel would say, "And wear your blue dress. The one I like. The one you had on at the cocktail party." I wore it so many times it was almost in shreds and people must have thought it was a uniform. However, I didn't care much what others thought. Mel liked it, and that was enough for me. Next, when we arrived at a night club, there would always come the time when the leader of the orchestra stopped at our table and said to Mel, "Want to sit in?" Then Mel would climb to the platform and take over the drums. He explained it this way: "I know I'm not the best drummer in the business. I know I'll always make more money singing or in pictures. But I like the drums." And the third thing I could count on was that before the evening was over, Mel again would ask me to marry him. It seems strange now that I should have held out for so long, for we were both twenty-three years old, and both doing well. The fact that I, too, was heading toward success produced the great conflict. I had worked hard to earn a place in pictures, and at last things looked bright. I had my first major part in "Knock on Any Door," and Columbia Pictures had great plans. Living in Hollywood, both Mel and I had seen the marriages of too many of our friends break up because there wasn't room for two careers in one family. "Look," Mel would say, "that's no good. What's the point of getting married if you are going to be on the Coast while I'm out on the road? I don't want us to be separated. I want you with me." I would answer, "I want to be with you, too," and put off making a final decision. Yet I was in love, too. As deeply in love as Mel was. So long as we both were in Hollywood, seeing each other every day, I could postpone making up my mind. It was when Mel started a personal appearance tour which took him all over the United States and into Canada that being in love turned into a problem. I missed Mel, and I missed him bitterly. Without him, nothing, not even work on my picture, had any sparkle, any fun in it. Mel felt the same way, and it was worse for him, out on the road. I had my friends, my apartment, my job. He had hotel rooms, three to six shows a day, and long jumps between towns. Our only link was long distance telephone, and Mel turned into AT&T's best customer. He would call me sometimes as many as five times a day. I'd protest, "But Mel, you can't afford it. You're spending a fortune in toll charges." "I know it," he would answer, "but Candy, I have to talk to you." That went on for five months. At last, in "December, four years ago, when Mel was playing the Chicago Theatre, I couldn't stand it any longer, either. I dropped everything and came East to spend Christmas with him. Through all the return trip to Hollywood, I felt as lost as I had been at the long-ago cocktail party. The miles stretched out, bleaker and bleaker, each one taking me farther away from Mel. Strangely enough, the thing that really decided us was a recording session. Mel had come back to the Coast to cut some records, and he asked me to go with him to the studio. "I've found a tune," he confided. "No, I didn't write it, but I wish I had. I think you'll like it, too." He sat me down on a bench about twenty feet away from the microphone, and he sang right to me. After the first eight bars I knew what he meant. It was called, "She's a Home Girl." I did a lot of adding and subtracting during that session. I added up our pleasant evenings, and I subtracted the time we had been apart. There were more of the distant days, but love reverses arithmetic, and being together was the important total. I asked myself, too, what I would gain even if I should become a great star. Would seeing my name up in lights ever give me as much satisfaction as standing in the wings while Mel sang, knowing he was reaching out toward me, just as I was reaching toward him? Could a career ever be half as wonderful as the time between shows when Mel and I sat in his dressing room, making up new songs, playing records, or just talking? Could success, however bright, ever make up for being lost and alone, separated from the man I loved? Suddenly it all seemed simple and inevitable. Being with Mel was my career, a career well worth the shoving aside of all other commitments which were in the way. It's a strange thing, but the moment I realized that, all the turmoil I had been in for all these months subsided. I had, in its place, a peace, a contentment, such as I had never known before. This, I knew, was what I had been born to do. When the band folded up its music, and Mel and I walked out on the street together, I said, "You win. One career is enough for one family. Let's get married. Now." We almost eloped. I wanted to, but Mel thought twice. "I want my mother and father with us, and your family, too. I want my uncles, and I want John Poister, my friend from school. Let's go back to Chicago." We studied his schedule, and found three days between engagements. I went on ahead to arrange things. For my wedding dress I chose a Christian Dior model of iridescent sea green taffeta, fashioned much like the blue dress Mel liked so well. It was a quiet little wedding, with just those we loved present in the hotel suite, but when Mel and I said, "T do," we felt they were the most important words we'd ever speak. Our feelings haven't changed, but only grown stronger, in the three and a half years we've been married. The only thing that could possibly make us any happier is to have a family. And that's not too far off in the future, I'm sure. With Mel's TV career blossoming into full flower, and our life together growing sweeter with every passing day, we are more than content. There seems to be a new and deeper meaning in the words, every time Mel sings our special wedding-present song, just to me: "There isn't any special reason . . . but you're you and I'm me . . we're in love, and you bet I'm proud."