Radio mirror (Nov 1938-Apr 1939)

RADIO MIRROR •^ Authorities apparently agree that kissing, on the lips, as a sign of affection, did not begin until after Cleopatra's time. She died in 30 B. C. and the custom seems to have been established well after her day. Cleopatra had one other misfortune, too. She used skin lotions, but did not have the famous Skin Softener — Italian Balm. Her lotions were mixed, undoubtedly, with "a little of this and too much of that" —but today, no guesswork is permitted in making Italian Balm for milady's skin. Here is a scientifically made skin-softening beauty aid that will help to keep your skin smoother and softer — fresherfeeling, more kissable and thrilling to the touch. In Italian Balm you get not only a skin protection against chapping and skin dryness. You get also the costliest ingredients used in any of the largest selling lotions— yet the cost to use Italian Balm is negligible because it is rich, full-bodied and concentrated; not thin or watery. Try it FREE. Send coupon below. GwrnJxcunxCs Italian Balm ® Name CAMPANA SALES COMPANY 591 Lincolnway, Batavia, Illinois Gentlemen: I have never tried Italian Balm. Please send me VANITY Bottle FREE and postpaid. City—, State In Canada, Campana, Ltd., MACo'Jl Caledonia Road, lor onto Contest! Father: Don't hope for too much! Snooks: Hello, daddy! Father: Hello, Snooks. What are you eating? Snooks: Strawberry shortcake. Mummy said I could have it. Father: Well, put it aside for a minute. I want to snap your picture. I have to send it to the newspaper and maybe win five hundred dollars. Snooks: Will my picture be in the papers? Father: Yes. Snooks: Like Uncle Louie's? Father: Yes. Snooks: Then where's the number? Father: What number? Snooks: To hang around my neck! But the picture-taking ordeal is not yet over. Father: Now, come stand over here in the sun and smile. Snooks: Like this, daddy? Father: That's it. Stand still. Snooks: Awight — why you looking in the little box, daddy? Father: So I can see you. Snooks: But I aint in there, daddy. Father: I know — but your reflection is! Stand still. Snooks: I wanna look in it. Father: Never mind . . . Just stand perfectly still and watch the birdie . . . Ready . . . one — two — Snooks: I don't see any birdie. Father: There isn't any birdie. I said that to fix your attention on something . . . Just pretend there's a birdie. Snooks: Awight, daddy. Father: Now — look at it and smile — One — two — Snooks: Waaahhh! Father: What's the matter? Snooks: The birdie bit me. Father: What birdie? Snooks: The one I'm pretending! What's New From Coast to Coast (Continued from page 4) Jerry Cooper's new contract with the Vocal Varieties program on NBC has made him do something he swore he'd never do. The Vocal Varieties show is broadcast on Tuesdays and Thursdays from Cincinnati, and Jerry, who would never set foot in an airplane, is doing a weekly commuting trip from New York by air. He leaves on Monday and returns on Friday — all because he can't bear the idea of being away from New York permanently. In spite of its popularity, the Good News of 1939 show may leave the air when the contract between Maxwell House and Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer expires in December. Dissatisfaction on both sides, it's whispered, with M-G-M thinking that maybe the show is costing it too much money and getting it too little advertising and publicity return. The Good News departure, if it happens, will be just another skirmish in the war between radio and movies, which has been getting very bitter lately. Radio men are cross because the movies are spending a lot of money on advertising — with practically all of it going to the newspapers. One Hollywood station has definitely stopped broadcasting previews unless the movie companies pay for the time, and other broadcasters have risen in meeting to express their approval of the step. And an association of New York theater owners have started figuring out how they can persuade the studios to keep their stars off radio programs. * * * The Lone Ranger almost landed two of his fans in jail the other day. An elderly couple, driving quietly and peaceably along a highway near San Francisco, suddenly speeded up and whizzed through a tunnel at sixty miles an hour. A motor cop stopped them and remonstrated — at which they explained that The Lone Ranger was on, the tunnel cut off reception on their car radio, and they had to hurry so they wouldn't miss too much of the action! . . . The cop let 'em go. ROCHESTER, New York— "Network dramatic shows on a local station" might well be the slogan for Rochester's WSAY. They're so determined to do good plays on WSAY that often rehearsals are held in the small hours of the morning, because it's the only time a lot of busy people can get together. WSAY is one of radio's newest baby stations — it went on the air for its first night-time broadcast only last June.Incidentally, that first night program was also its first dramatic show, when it did an adaptation of the short story, "Rich Little Poor Boy." The cast of WSAY's dramatic offerings is made up of Rochester people who have their regular daytime jobs, either locally or on the station itself. The leads are usually taken by Violet Crerar, who has had experience on New York stations, Evelyn Chevillat, John Bootleby, and sometimes Mort Nusbaum, who also supervises the productions and does the narrating. The director is Harold Kolb, of the Eastman Theater. And just about every one of WSAY's announcers and continuity writers has been pressed into service at one time or another. Usually the rehearsals get under way at midnight, when the station signs off, and last until three or four in the morning — simply so everybody in the cast will be free to participate. CINCINNATI— WLW is taking its farm listeners seriously these days, and really giving them something that will make it hard for them to leave the house in the mornings and get those chores done. Every fifteen minutes, during the Top O' the Morning program, from 6:00 to 8:15, WLW broadcasts information of importance and value to farmers — weather and market reports, Four-H Club lesson, lesson assignments and news, and all sorts of data the farmers ought to have. In charge of the farm broadcasts is John F. Merrifield, himself a farm boy and an Iowa State graduate. 56