Radio and television mirror (July-Dec 1948)

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TAKE SOOTHING "BC" Tablet or powder same FAST relief The wonderful combination offastacting ingredients in the "B C" formula quickly soothes headaches, neuralgic pains and minor muscular aches. Two tablets equal one powder. Use only as directed. Always keep a package handy ! the vapors they were, and were gone. We still had our problems, of course ... no lovers' quarrels, we didn't have time for them — but small riles and rifts such as, for instance, when I called for taxicabs. George has a great aversion to career women who act like career women. When I called a taxi, he wouldn't say anything but when the taxi came, he'd say "Why don't you open the door?" — and I would. And he'd get in first! A few of these and I learned my lessons so well that now I occasionally forget to open the door of a cab when I'm alone! On Thanksgiving Day, 1945, George kissed me in a taxicab. In January, 1948, we got married. It was the most exhausting wedding! As I was dressing for the wedding, which was in New Jersey, a galaspirited neighbor stopped in unexpectedly and threw two boxes of rice all over me and all over the room which made it impossible, since the floors are waxed, to keep from slipping and sliding with every step! GEORGE'S sister and brother-in-law, driving in from Long Island in a blizzard, arrived with hamburgers in hand, having had no time to eat on the road. Hamburgers obviously called for an accompaniment of hot coffee which, five minutes before George was due to arrive for me, I patiently perked! My sister-in-law-to-be also wanted to borrow a hat having, she suddenly wailed aloud, forgotten hers! As we left the house, my maid called out the window that I'd forgotten my purse and my "Something borrowed, something blue . . ." On the drive to Jersey, we got stuck in the snow and George and his brother literally put their shoulders to the wheel for a good half hour before we were on our way again! Having left the telephone number of the Judge who was marrying us with the Registry, in case the air-line should call us about our reservations for Havana, two calls for radio jobs came in for us before George said "I do." Back in New York, in our apartment which, during our absence had been transformed (George's orders) into a hothouse of the white flowers I love, we had a champagne supper — and then my bridegroom left to report back to work. The next day, the honeymoon . . . In the late afternoon of the day the honeymoon began, George had a limousine from American Airlines pick me up at the apartment. On the way to the airport, we stopped at the theater where "Brigadoon" is plaving and George, in full make-up (and on a week's leave of absence from the show) got in. Removing his make-up en route to La Guardia, we made the plane and took off on what George calls "The highest honeymoon ever spent," for Havana. When we came down in Havana, two photographers, neither of whom spoke English, were there to meet us and accompanied us, snapping like mad, to the La Nacional where we were staving. "Two to one," I said to George, "they have no idea who we are." A bet I collected when, the next day, the pictures came out in the papers, captioned "Mr. and Mrs. Keena." Since George didn't know how to rhumba, and neither did I, and both of us wanted to rhumba in Havana, we went down, in all innocence, to take a lesson from the teacher recommended by the hotel as teaching the