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'There are so many lovely girls around that a fellow just cant choose" is his happy problem
black slacks and a red parking attendant's shirt. On his face were traces of make-up, and he looked wan and a little beat. "Excuse my appearance," he apologized, "but I didn't have time to go home and change." But his strong sense of fun had not left him. His is not the back-slapping, "Hi ya, fellow" kind of humor; it is more subtle, more oblique. "You know," he said, chuckling, "as I walked in the front door here, some big shot called me over. He stuck his parking ticket in my hand and said, 'Here, boy, bring up my car. It's a white '59 Caddie — and make it snappy.' "
The memory of that encounter tickled Edd. "When I drive up to a place like this in my own car, I'm in trouble," he said. "Since I started doing Kookie, the attendants all know me, and I don't dare give them a quarter tip any more. It has to be 75 cents or a dollar — or they think I'm not upholding the traditions of the parking lot trade."
Edd's smile is a wonderful one that lights up his face at the most unexpected times. He does not talk much; he volunteers little, and to find out anything about him you virtually have to blast. I had met him before, and he was polite and pleasant, if not exactly loquacious. But this night he seemed more at ease. Though still warily on guard against questions
that might be too personal, he was at least willing to discuss a little of his life. He asked if he could have a glass of Bristol Cream sherry, then ordered a cup of ice-cold vichysoisse, a tossed green salad, and the chefs special, Beef Stroganoff. As we ate he said suddenly, "You know — " (and he gestured with a nod of his head around the elegant dining room) " — this is quite a big change for a Yorkville boy. Vichysoisse, Beef Stroganoff — back in my East 78th street days in New York, I wouldn't have known how to pronounce it, let alone eat it."
He has learned a great deal, and he is still learning. Some, who judge him carelessly, have charged Edd with being cagey and super-cautious about his background. Others have dubbed him naive or even dumb. One man who has worked with Edd said, "I asked him once if he had a business manager to look after his earnings. 'No, I haven't,' said Edd. 'I wouldn't know how to pick one.' Now really, how wide-eyed
can you
be?'
But if Edd seems naive or innocent, or even, at times, a bit of a noodle, it is only a kind of protective coloration. There is nothing of the dullard in the real Edd Byrnes. He is smart enough to know that there may come a day when
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A TOAST is proposed by Edd to their success in show business. Until he feels sure of himself and his career, Edd will go it alone.
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