Photoplay (Jul-Dec 1947)

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They keep coming back when he least expects them so this restless reporter tosses away the sleeping pills and tells all ! BY EARL WILSON Drawings by Van m I S 1 IN HOLLYWOOD, the land of milk and honey, the town where men are men and women are padding, all the memorable events occur at parties. And, by memorable events I of course mean fights. Yet I’ve never seen anybody so much as raise his dukes at a Hollywood brawl. A Hollywood party isn’t like a party anywhere else. One of the most brilliant that the Beautiful Wife and I galloped off to was given by Atwater Kent, the enormously popular old geezer who used to make radios in Philadelphia. In one month Mr. Kent may give six, seven or eight parties. One person laughingly said, “I haven’t attended the last twenty.” But everybody has a good time and enjoys the hospitality as the wine and food are called. The first party at Kent’s I attended was exclusive— only 150 guests. As soon as you get inside the door (which is not too easy in case you have been to a Hollywood cocktail party just before) a waiter sticks a champagne glass in your hand. Just to be polite you take a drink out of it. The waiter fills it up and you take another drink — you have to be well-mannered at a time like this — and this goes on for some time. This can get very dangerous, especially for poor Mr. Kent’s furniture. '$} Ife y 4 ' 17 • ■ 48