Close Up (Oct 1920 - Sep 1923)

3 NIGHT LIFE IN L. A. (By “The Rounder”) SOCIAL NOTES IN ALLEY “C,” GOOD SAMARITAN HOSPITAL, LOS ANGELES (By “266”) N. B. — Jack, the night orderly, is competent, educated and courteous. He prepared me, via the stomach, for tomorrow. WEDNESDAY — Operation occurred. Dr. W. H. Kiger knows his business backwards. I have noticed a deep silence in this Alley, or Hallway, particularly from the women folks who are inhabiting the other rooms about me. Is it possible that they are all having their temperatures taken at the same time ? SAME DAY — George, the handsome, broad smiling orderly (one nurse insinuated he was a Swede), came in and told me a joke. It was a very good joke, but I did not dare laugh for fear of breaking a stitch, so orderlies should be prevented from telling good jokes when a patient is bound up. He is also as gentle as a woman in his duties. SAME DAY — Still have my wits about me, as well as a fair pair of eyes. I perceived a delightful Special nurse. LATER — After much pioneering effort, discovered her name to be Hazel Billingsley. She is lithe, graceful, with a glorious pair of blue eyes and golden hair. Next time I’m a patient — me for a Special Limited. Can I train myself to this? NEXT DAY — Having been duly soaked and half dried by the goodnatured Night Nurse at 6, or so, a. m., in spanked manner style, I beheld a vision of streaming hair and a gorgeous kimona flashing into the bathroom, which is situated, when my door is open, just at the tail of my left eye. After concentrating my orbs on closed door for an age, I fell into a doze. When I awakened again, the door was open and the bathtub remained inside. “SMILING AT GRUNDY” “Where austerity reigns, let’s pull a trick,” A recovering patient spoke; “We’ll smother all of this scandal quick, By laughing it off as a joke. So that anyone, with such austere views, Can’t stem the thrill we feel, Let gossip later give out the news, How two of us can steal A bliss. No matter where it is, If we are gainers, ’tis our biz! NEXT DAY — Fortunately, for the routine I am undergoing, I am alleviated somewhat with the kindly attentions and presence of Nurse Anne Shambelan. She is very charming, flushes readily and is an example of a higher type woman who lives with her ideals. Horrors! I must be getting well. I was presented with a cup of black coffee. Perhaps, the toast will come tomorrow ! If these is any humorous side to hospital life, I would like to know where it is? as I can’t spend too much of my life in hospitals seeking humor. Righ opposite my door is a little boy, who was operated on yesterday, and today his relatives in droves have been timidly approaching the door and nervously looking in to see how the little fellow was getting along. Strangely enough, as I am writing this about a room where tragedy is stalking, I heard girlish laughter coming down the hall, and it struck me that tragedy and comedy are as ever, side by each. NEXT DAY — Nurse Billingsley created a great commotion in our Alley when she came forth carrying aloft in triumph a gift in the form of a model ship beneath an electric globe, presented to her by a real, everyday hero whom she is at present nursing; so Claude McElhaney and others gave marked attention to the flags which flew at half mast on the boat. Harmony prevails in Alley C. The “Pipes of Pan” often resound. Constance Meeker is the vivid charioteer. She wheels you from one room to another. Speaking about visitors and flowers, it has been an insistent grouch with me for years that flowers only come to those who wed, or die, which is off-set, for I have received quite a collection of both, and as the flowers are fragrant — so were the presence of the friends who came forward to administer their little tokens of regard for me in this, my first hour of being compelled to lie on my back in several years. Kathrine Lorimer came every day and made my room, in a way, feel like home, sweet home. The nurses on the floor, I understood, remarked to each other last night in sotto voco, that “226” was the telephonic pest — one even suggesting installing the only telephone in the Alley in my room. I cordially agreed with her. The telephone operators in this hospital are wonderful. The treatment in this hospital, as a whole, is very good and I make this statement in view of the fact that the Hospital of the Good Samaritan is the official hospital for the Actors’ Fund. THE DAY — This does not necessarily mean that I am going out today, because I am not, but as Editor of CLOSE-UP I realized that you, Friend Reader, wanted a copy of your favorite magazine in your mail box on the 20th and, although I have had certain little pains and unpleasantness, I decided to attend the editing of this magazine from my bed. It has been a rather difficult task to essay but, owing to the kindness of a certain Mr. Tonkin, and a more than excellent stenographer, and a co-operative spirit displayed by the office staff, I am inclined to believe that we will all see this number out on the date it should be on the newsstands. Now, if I eliminate my Night Life in this issue, it will be for the specific reason that I was personally unable to visit any of the places mentioned, and for that reason I have eliminated description and criticisms, and I add this, as it is much to my regret, that I intended to write a splendid criticism about the “Masquerader,” which appeared at the Kinema, but I can state here, and these few statements can be accepted as a test for the quality of the