Hobo Jungle
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San Diegan
Sinatra Arrested And Freed On Bail In Row With Writer
April 9, 1947
Los Angeles
Deputy Sheriffs today broke up a rehearsal in a Vine Street radio studio in order to charge bobby-soxer dreamboat Frank Sinatra with a misdemeanor battery charge, incurred Tuesday night outside Sunset Strip hotspot Ciro's. New York Daily Mirror columnist Lee Mortimer claims someone sucker-punched him, and Sinatra then beat the 42-year-old writer while goons held him down. This effectively broke up Mortimer's working date with Miss Kay Kino, Chinese songbird whom Mortimer was grooming for a role in a show he'd written for New York's China Doll Cafe.
Sinatra initially admitted involvement in the fracas, noting "For two years he has been needling me. He called me a dago --------. I saw red. He gave me a look. I can't describe it. It was one of those 'Who do you amount to?' looks. I followed him outside. I hit him. I'm all mixed up." Later, through his attorney, Albert Pearlson, the story became one of an unprovoked name calling and physical attack from Mortimer--who has written searing columns on the singer's relationship with gangster Lucky Luciano--on the sheepish Sinatra.
Judge Bert P. Woodward set bail at $500 and trial for May 28. Sinatra pled not guilty, and hopped a flight to NY to receive the Thomas Jefferson Award from the Council Against Intollerance in America.
Tramp, you gotta use this stuff:
columnist Lee Mortimer claims someone sucker-punched him, and Sinatra then beat the 42-year-old writer while goons held him down.
For two years he has been needling me. He called me a dago --------. I saw red. He gave me a look. I can't describe it. It was one of those 'Who do you amount to?' looks. I followed him outside. I hit him. I'm all mixed up.
Sinatra pled not guilty, and hopped a flight to NY to receive the Thomas Jefferson Award from the Council Against Intollerance in America.
See http://1947project.blogspot.com/.
Obligatory tie in to our hobby: Sinatra like O-gauge trains and collected them.
San
Does anyone remember this band?
In The Court Of The Crimson King
Lyrics
by King Crimson
The rusted chains of prison moons
Are shattered by the sun.
I walk a road, horizons change
The tournament's begun.
The purple piper plays his tune,
The choir softly sing;
Three lullabies in an ancient tongue,
For the court of the crimson king.
The keeper of the city keys
Put shutters on the dreams.
I wait outside the pilgrim's door
With insufficient schemes.
The black queen chants
the funeral march,
The cracked brass bells will ring;
To summon back the fire witch
To the court of the crimson king.
The gardener plants an evergreen
Whilst trampling on a flower.
I chase the wind of a prism ship
To taste the sweet and sour.
The pattern juggler lifts his hand;
The orchestra begin.
As slowly turns the grinding wheel
In the court of the crimson king.
On soft gray mornings widows cry
The wise men share a joke;
I run to grasp divining signs
To satisfy the hoax.
The yellow jester does not play
But gentle pulls the strings
And smiles as the puppets dance
In the court of the crimson king.
In The Court Of The Crimson King
Lyrics
by King Crimson
The rusted chains of prison moons
Are shattered by the sun.
I walk a road, horizons change
The tournament's begun.
The purple piper plays his tune,
The choir softly sing;
Three lullabies in an ancient tongue,
For the court of the crimson king.
The keeper of the city keys
Put shutters on the dreams.
I wait outside the pilgrim's door
With insufficient schemes.
The black queen chants
the funeral march,
The cracked brass bells will ring;
To summon back the fire witch
To the court of the crimson king.
The gardener plants an evergreen
Whilst trampling on a flower.
I chase the wind of a prism ship
To taste the sweet and sour.
The pattern juggler lifts his hand;
The orchestra begin.
As slowly turns the grinding wheel
In the court of the crimson king.
On soft gray mornings widows cry
The wise men share a joke;
I run to grasp divining signs
To satisfy the hoax.
The yellow jester does not play
But gentle pulls the strings
And smiles as the puppets dance
In the court of the crimson king.
Running that red block Charlie.
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Frank53
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