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re women smarten
IF I become conspicuous by my absence immediately after this issue of Radio Television Mirror goes on sale, you'll know that my female companions on Leave It To The Girls have consigned me to the fate of a traitor. Because — in answer to the question that's the title of this article— "No, I don't think women are smarter than men!" We've got it all over them for beauty, but when it comes to brains, I have to concede the. men a slight edge.
Now, before you give up in disgust and turn the page, give me a chance to explain, won't you? In the first place, I most emphatically don't believe that any man, any run-of-the-mill specimen, is smarter than the smartest woman. I'm just speaking in general terms. I've known a lot of gals in my day who are very, very bright indeed. And a lot of men who were what the psychologists call "dull average." (These latter not for long, though — why waste time on such as they, when there are so many witty, brilliant members of the species on all sides?)
I recall having had this same keenly appreciative interest in boys — who grow up to be
men, bless 'em — all my life. From the time, in fact, when I was involuntarily separated from them in parochial school right up to now — when, if I'm separated from them for any length of time it is still strictly involuntary.
Maybe if I'd had assorted male friends and relatives who beat their wives and robbed poor boxes I'd have a different attitude, but all the men I've known have been nice on their own account, and particularly nice to me. And nice people, I think, are smart. It's a whole lot harder to be pleasant the bulk of the time than it is to be unpleasant. For instance, I wouldn't have met my handsome — and brainy — husband if it hadn't been for a man. Certainly no woman would have been nice enough to introduce him to me; she'd have kept him for herself.
The way I did meet him is a longish story, starting back in Chicago, my home town. I'd never thought much about a career. I had a vague, comfortable idea that I'd settle down in Chicago and get married someday. I used to sing once in a while, and one day when I was at the Pump Room in the Ambassador East,
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