Atlanta Hawk Announcer Skip Caray, whose real name is Harry Caray Jr., dates a Japanese stewardess. He was thinking of getting engaged until he realized that marriage would be terribly unfair to her.
"Think of what would happen," he said, "if she went into a crowded grocery store and wrote a check and signed it ' Mrs. Harry Caray.' " He's right. Suicidal to try it.
At Gallagher's Steak House, a luncheon meeting place for the Manhattan expense-account crowd, photographs of the famous and near-famous cover the walls. For years a picture of Richard Nixon was displayed, but just the other day a customer looked up and noticed that Nixon had disappeared. In his place—Casey Stengel.
A Philadelphia Flyers' hockey fan has figured out why one of last year's big offensive guns is having an off year. In a letter to Columnist Frank Dolson he pointed out that Wing Rick MacLeish, who has made only 18 goals this season, compared with 50 last, receives a free case of Tastykakes for each goal he scores. "There are 24 packs per case and three cakes per pack," the correspondent computed. "MacLeish has consumed 3,600 cakes since last year, a minimum of 576,000 calories." The name of the letter writer, by the way, was Rex Stout. Wolf that down.
When Thomas Hunter Lowe was speaker of the Maryland House of Delegates, he caused a lot of tongue-clucking and head-shaking because he would drive up to Annapolis from his Talbot County farm in a muddy old truck. Now Speaker Lowe is Judge Lowe, a member of the Court of Special Appeals, and he has turned to a different mode of transportation. His Honor, dressed in an appropriately black jump suit, roars into the capital astride a Harley-David-son motorcycle and opines, "People don't care if I get there on roller skates as long as my opinions are proper." Improper, he judges, are close followers. "When you're tailgated on a motorcycle, you know you've been tailgated," he says with a 30-day look in his eyes.
The Chicago team in the new World Football League will have a name that even the Macon Whoopees could envy: The Chicago Fire. As a matter of public service, we should warn you, too, that the player personnel director of the team will be one Bill Byrne.
The giant slalom, always an Alpine event, has gone vulpine. When Fabienne Serrat of France (center), Lise-Marie Morerod of Switzerland (right) and Rosi Mittermaier of Germany finished 1-2-3 in the World Cup championships at Badgastein, Austria, they received the usual gold, silver and bronze—but in fox furs. They are much warmer than medals and, admit it, pretty sly, too. Later they were gone—presumably by an order of ski officials.
George Hamid, owner of the Trenton Speedway, has taken careful notice of two results of the fuel shortage. First, a lot of people have been questioning whether automobile racing should continue when they are having difficulty finding fuel to drive to work. Second, a professor at the University of Oklahoma, Walter Ewbank, has developed a catalyst that permits water to be mixed with gasoline, resulting in 15% better gas mileage and a reduction in noxious emissions. With specially designed carburetors, he also hopes for 50% greater efficiency. No dummy, Hamid has invited Ewbank to test his agent at the speedway. If the catalyst performs, Hamid would like to stage some races for the branch-water blasters in April, when there should be no shortage of good clean water, at least if Hamid sets out rain barrels.
Beginning with a tip on the horses—specifically, that an Air Force commissary was stocking horse feed—Senator William Proxmire pitchforked up this shock of oats: Colonel Gerald McKay, commander of Moron Air Force Base in Spain, last summer ordered 20,000 pounds of horse feed flown in from Ethiopia. The base commissary-stored the feed and hauled it 10 miles, as needed, to the stable where the colonel kept his horse. It appears that he was flying his fodder through a loophole allowing the Air Force to ship and store "pet food." Regulations have now been changed to limit feeding to household pets.
Penny Tweedy, owner of Secretariat, was at the Sands Hotel in Las Vegas for the unveiling of its plush new Secretariat Suite. The 4,000-square-foot accommodation features two parlors, four bars, a game room, an 18-by-35-foot pool, a sauna and, uh, four separate bedrooms. A bargain for only $500 per night. "It's class and elegance," said Mrs. Tweedy, "just like Secretariat."