Screenland Plus TV-Land (Jul 1959 - May 1960)

''Back home, girls I know are out on dates with boys. They're having fun. Me, Vm all alone" For the first time in her life, young Connie was all alone in a hotel room. Soon, she was treading that solitary path which is heartbreakingly familiar to every girl who has gone away to school or has moved to a distant place to find her first job. "I read for a while. I looked out the window. I wrote a letter to my folks. Then I looked out the window some more." Restless, solitary, she realized she had better find something to do. ''I knew how to get to Marshall Field's. I spent hours prowling through every inch of that beautiful store looking at things I couldn't buy." Wherever she wandered, she kept returning to a certain display which featured a big, silken white Persian cat. "It looked so real I wanted to reach out and pet it. I wondered how much it cost. I was sure it must be at least a hundred dollars. About my third time around, I got up my nerve to ask. And what do you think the girl told me?" The suspense of that moment again came into Connie's voice. "$4.95!" CLUTCHING the cat, Connie hurried back to the hotel. "I had already named it 'Precious'. I held that toy cat in my arms and talked to it while I watched television. I remember I said, 'It's doggone lonesome on the road, Precious. But soon we'll be going home and you'll sit right in the middle of my bed and be waiting for me each time I go away.' " Connie has since made such shopping expeditions a habit. "As soon as I get into a new town and have a few minutes free, I go to the biggest store and buy the prettiest stuffed animal I can find. I know it is going to be part of my home, RADIO on end table accompanies Connie wherever she goes on the road. Popular music reminds her of home and family singing. i TELEPHONING her friends is one of the best ways Connie knows of alleviating loneliness. Buying pretty stuffed animals is another. a sort of symbol of all the things I love, and then I'm not lonely any more." Having the sound of home with her when she is distant is another of Connie's ways of bridging the miles. "I carry a tiny radio with me everywhere I go. Now, on long trip-. I also take a light-weight phonograph and a few favorite records. Pop music, to me, means family. I hear a song we like and I think of all the times my mother and father and brother and I have sung it together. With our music in the background, I can answer my fan mail and get on with my other little jobs and be quite content, wherever I am." Those are ways of keeping old ties close, but what does she do when she meets new people in new places? Many of the letters girls write to Connie carry the question, "How can I make new friends?" Here Connie holds firm opinions. "First, you have to recognize the difference between acquaintances and friends. I was lucky enough to find out early, and to me, it was the best lesson that I learned in high school." Connie had joined a sorority, and having no sister of her own, was, she admits, a bit starry-eyed over the promised organization kinship. Then, one day, some gossipy girls dissected an absent member. Connie stood up in the meeting and resigned. "If you say such things about her, what will you say about me when I'm not here? I don't dig this. You're not my sisters." Connie observes, "I learned that I want many acquaintances, but that I'm able to count on just a few close friends. I don't continued on page 67 CHOICE of which dress to wear for her night club engagement is mulled over by Connie who's aided by her secretary, Joyce Becker. 41