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Howard Keel's a movie idol who hates being idolized —
a public figure who has
a "Keep Off"
sign on his private life.
■ Swimming season was on down at the creek, so this last week of school an ornery sort of kid named Harry Keel told his dad he'd like a haircut. "Make it short," he suggested, "so it'll last me a while."
His pop nodded, pinned a towel around his neck, stropped his straight-edged razor and shaved him as smooth as an egg.
"Great Jumpin' Judas, Pop!" swore Harry. "You've mint me! I look like a picked turkey buzzard!"
His dad cracked him a playful flip with the towel. "Get along to school now," he ordered.
Harry got along, but he grabbed his cap first and pulled down the earfiaps to hide his disgrace. He kept it on when he took his seat in class. "Harry Keel," the teacher barked, "take off your cap in the schoolroom!"
Harry shook his head. "No ma'am."
"Take it off, I said."
"Uh-uh."
She stalked down the aisle, snatched off the head piece and hung it on the rack. Harry jumped up, retrieved it and jammed it back on. She took it off again. He put it on. The antagonistic shuttle continued for 12 trips — a silent, resolute battle of wills. But in the end Harry was wearing his cap. They called him "Coonie" after that — "Coonie Keel" — because he looked like a skinned raccoon, but there was a certain admiration in the jibe. Obviously he was a kid with a mind of his own and one to be reckoned with.
That one-boy rebellion occurred a good stretch of years ago, in the little coal mining town of Gillespie, Illinois. But it's still going on, in essence, a good many miles West, in Hollywood. Harry Keel was his own boy and now he's his own man — all 76 inches of him.
A few weeks ago, Howard stepped down from a plane at the Los Angeles Municipal Airport, shook (Continued on page 103)