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PEOPLE
May 22, 1967
It probably was not the un-kindest cut of all, maybe only the fifth or sixth unkindest cut, but former Indonesian President Sukarno has been stripped of his title, Great Fisherman. He has also been stripped of most of his other titles, such as Great Lawyer, Great Forester, Great Engineer, Great Leader of Islam and Great Leader of the Revolution, but U.S. fishermen will know which loss hurt most.
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May 22, 1967

People

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It probably was not the un-kindest cut of all, maybe only the fifth or sixth unkindest cut, but former Indonesian President Sukarno has been stripped of his title, Great Fisherman. He has also been stripped of most of his other titles, such as Great Lawyer, Great Forester, Great Engineer, Great Leader of Islam and Great Leader of the Revolution, but U.S. fishermen will know which loss hurt most.

" Saints be. Durned if a feller can't run across almost anyone in a saloon brawl!" The folksy feller who said that was New Orleans Saints Halfback Paul Hornung, expressing surprise last week at finding ex-fighters Rex Layne and Gene Fullmer in the saloon on location in Lehi, Utah, where all three of them were filming The Devil's Brigade. Hornung, Layne and Fullmer (shown above at brawling practice) were reported to be shaping up to the satisfaction of Film Director Andrew McLaglen as, respectively, two feisty lumberjacks and a bartender. All three seemed to have a sufficient natural aptitude for brawls. The only real concern was Fullmer's bartending. The ex-middleweight champion is a proper Mormon who does not drink or smoke, and he needed a little instruction in the art of drawing beer. "When the scene began Gene couldn't draw a glass of beer with a good head on it," McLaglen said, with the concern of a director stuck with an actress who cannot cry real tears, "but a half an hour later he was working the bar like a veteran. He can have a bartending job on any one of my sets anytime he wants it."

There is a refreshing briskness about the governor of New Mexico's approach to a request that might easily have bogged down in pompousness and red tape. Asked for a fishing proclamation, Governor Dave Cargo simply but firmly instructed "all fish in the State of New Mexico...to cooperate fully with anglers."

Toots Shor, saloon-keeper to the sporting great, has been involved in a couple of exciting non-happenings recently. The first was the nonhappening in the Empire Room of New York's Waldorf-Astoria, where Yankee Manager Ralph Honk did not slug Singer Gordon MacRae, and Shor, of the party, of course, did not see it. Last week Shor was arrested for the nonassault of one Arthur Jones. Jones seems to think that Shor and his bartender, Edward Himmler, took him around the throat at about 1:15 in the morning near Shor's New York establishment, but Shor explained to newsmen that "the first rule of any restaurant owner or saloon-keeper is never to lay hands on a customer. I follow that rule."

In a world in which things happen entirely too rapidly, it is a comfort to have England, where life proceeds pretty much as usual from century to century. In the England of 1581, for example. Queen Elizabeth was knighting a sailor named Francis. And shortly, in the England of 1967, Queen Elizabeth will be knighting a sailor named Francis. It will be Elizabeth II instead of Elizabeth I and Francis Chichester instead of Francis Drake, but the Queen will dub her new knight using the same sword with which the first Elizabeth dubbed Sir Francis Drake, and the two will stand together in wax at Madame Tussaud's in London (below). Sixty-five-year-old Chichester has reached the North Atlantic in his astonishing solo circumnavigation of the globe, and in a few days he is expected to arrive in Plymouth in his 50-foot ketch, Gipsy Moth IV. Elizabeth II plans to drive to Greenwich to meet him upon the River Gate steps of the Royal Naval College of England. Her trip will be an honor not unprecedented, but rare, and it seems like a fair gesture, considering that her transportation to Greenwich will be a good deal more up-to-date than the transportation Chichester elected to duplicate Sir Francis Drake's trip around Cape Horn.

Fed up with little kids pounding on his door and calling, "Can Don come out and play?" Dallas Cowboy Quarterback Don Meredith finally did come out, but he came out into court to fight. The owner of Meredith's former apartment had brought suit against him for breaking a lease that still had three more months to run and was seeking $700 in damages. Last week a six-man jury not only ruled in Meredith's favor, it ordered Owner Albert Nichols to return $5 of his $100 deposit when Meredith testified 1) that the neighborhood children constantly knocked on the door and "when I couldn't come out and play" threw pebbles at the windows, 2) that the house manager led prospective tenants on "guided tours" through the Meredith apartment and 3) that Landlord Nichols' charge that Meredith's raccoon had been climbing the drapes was a wicked falsehood. "That wasn't the raccoon climbing the drapes," Meredith testified. "It was me."

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