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A Week-End
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Crosby
By Dick Pine
A visit to Rancho Santa Fe gives you opportunity to meet the famous song and romance man in his most natural role, as cordial host, devoted family man, golf enthusiast, and lover of fine horses
T MAY have been fate, and it may have been Bing. Anyhow, it was decreed that the most famous of the Crosby family should enjoy a couple of months' freedom from picture and radio commitments. My own mental picture of Bing was of an easy-going, happy-go-lucky son of a gun who worked hard at his relaxation, and when I heard that he had closed his North Hollywood home, and was "resting and relaxing" at his country place on the Rancho Santa Fe, I thought it might be a good idea to "rest and relax" with him for a week-end. Screenland thought so, too ; and, as there are no things I do better than rest and relax, it seemed a perfect arrangement all around. My few years in America still leave me with the hope that even native Americans can rest
and relax. Maybe they can. I'm still hoping. But I'm not entirely convinced. (Parker! Bring me the liniment!)
Now, don't get me wrong. Bing is a gracious host, and I like him. I had a good time at his house. It was just my rusty old bones that cried, "Uncle !"
Rancho Santa Fe lies about thirty-five miles north of the Mexican border, and consists of some forty ranches
some of which are bona fide ranches, and some, like
Bing's, country play homes. As one rounds the last turn in the semi-circular drive that leads to Bing's estate, lined on both sides with palms and bamboo trees, one comes suddenly upon a real Spanish hacienda which must have been the pride and joy of some gallant don of a century or so ago.
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