Constitution Hall
Washington, D.C.
Dear Mother:
Guess where I am now. The jolly old Red Cross is having a Convention of about 5,000 people. I have been assigned for the week to the registry desk where I am expected to slip little cards into big badges, file identification cards, and answer innumerable questions.
The doors don't open until a half hour yet, and I have
been locked in, posted by the telephones to tell people we are sorry but no
exceptions can be made, while policemen guard every door against the mob of too
hot but beautifully dressed delegates. Most of the Washington public is expected tonight too,
because Franchot Tone is to be here, and Conrad Thibault, and Burgess Meredith.
This afternoon Franchot was rehearsing and we took turns sneaking in to gawp [sic] at
him. Looked pretty normal to me, and a bit healthier. I always thought he was
the sort of wistful type. The trouble with this organization is that the whole
country is a member and you can't turn anyone away or even be snappy.
Even Mr. Leverenz noticed my sunburn today when he came over to get a badge for young Neil. And he introduced me to his wife. I am truly a secretary, when I meet the boss’s wife. Anyway, I was driven down to where Dick and Bill Stix keep their boat, in an open car in all the heat and got quite a burn, but becoming. Dick got an A 2 - or is it a 1 B rating - on the draft, which means that he won't be called until they have taken all the physically fit. The big accusation against him is that he is "underdeveloped." So we are writing a song about My Underdeveloped Husband, still in embryonic form, of course.
Rosalind and Dick did really see Mrs. S. last week. But it was
necessary to threaten that Dick would never darken her door again to make her
do it. Dick has never been so happy and they are planning a June wedding. R.
will probably give up her job by the middle of May and concentrate on furniture
and a trousseau. The issue of the minister still hasn't been met and I think
that meeting the lady is only the beginning, but they are in a very optimistic
mood just now.
Went for a very romantic walk with a young Southerner at the Red Cross on Sunday night, all around by the Lincoln Memorial etc. Sweet summer night, soft breezes, and all that sort of thing. Spring. Doesn’t seem to add up to the right answer, though. A good time was had by all. Particularly not the tall Southerner. We came back and ate at our House. Ye ghads, but it has been hot. Too hot for my suit a couple of times. On Sunday I wore my new red seersucker. The wind blows up the full skirt something higeous.
Went for a very romantic walk with a young Southerner at the Red Cross on Sunday night, all around by the Lincoln Memorial etc. Sweet summer night, soft breezes, and all that sort of thing. Spring. Doesn’t seem to add up to the right answer, though. A good time was had by all. Particularly not the tall Southerner. We came back and ate at our House. Ye ghads, but it has been hot. Too hot for my suit a couple of times. On Sunday I wore my new red seersucker. The wind blows up the full skirt something higeous.
To dinner last Wednesday with that radio person, and - of all things - golf afterwards. We went to one of those places where they give you a pail of balls and a target and set you to it. I got a blister and not a little enthusiasm for the game. Not at all expensive when someone else pays for it... R. was overcome with joy when I told her, after all her hecklings in St. Andrews to make me play. And the blister was awfully convincing.
Things are pepping up here and so Igudda start being polite again. Have a lovely time.
Love and Kisses,
Nancy
Copyright 2005 by Curt Taylor
No comments:
Post a Comment