Imperial Valley Press

The boys are at it again. If you were in Jacumba Sunday and failed to run into at least four candidates for office, you didn't get around very much. Even if you didn't get around much, the chances are they ran into you. No names will be mentioned because it is possible RR didn't see all of them. Besides, it breaks RR's heart every time he thinks that so many good men have got to lose—but then that's democracy. When a majority of voters rule, a majority of candidates lose. Funny, isn't it? Or is it?

Campaigns can go by the board, so far as this column is concerned while a more vital issue is concerned. Attention of the gentlemen is requested. Ladies please skip.

Men—are we men or are we clothes dummies? Are we embarrassed but comfortable, or unembarrassed but uncomfortable?

Jim Abel has started it—will it be allowed to die there? Jim's shorts, giving him plenty of comfort about the lower extremities, are a sight to behold but it does RR's heart good to behold them. More power to you Jim. If RR hadn't just looked at his own knees, he'd join you.

Covering Up. Eh?-

Harry Woodbury is the opposite extreme from Jim Abel and his shorts, but Harry's got a good reason. Those trousers he bought Harry explained, must have been made of a cacti compound—they scratched his shins so much. So Harry's taken to coveralls until the itching ceases.

To Settle the Matter-

Now, once and for all, we will see if Joe Louis was off his form or if he took a dive, or what have you, as RR has argued against Just by way of settling a couple hundred arguments, and as a triumph of booking, Manager Herb Norris of the United Artiste cinema hall will show round-by-round films of the Louis-Schmeling fight this week—Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday, to be exact Along the same line, for the sake of the punsters, RR insists that it's pronounced Max Schmayling—not Max Smelling! Sorry.

A Sorry Predicament-

We've had nightmares about such things, and awakened with a deep sigh to realize they were only dreams—but it actually happened in El Centro early Sunday morning. One of the chaps sleeping in the Carter motor establishment on West Main street didn't have time to rescue his clothing when fire broke out, and was left with a nightshirt which hit him waist high. Unperturbed, he scouted around in the garment, knees bent to decrease his height and make the nightshirt longer, until a patrolman advised him to get some clothing. Plaintively he quavered: "My clothes are all in there," pointing into the inferno! Finally someone supplied a pair of overalls.

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S. C. Love, El Paso, Phoenix and Tucson resident at times, avers they cannot compare with El Centro and Imperial Valley. In weather like this, that is a compliment.