Coronado Eagle and Journal, Volume XI, Number 40, 10 February 1923 — Bombs and Bubbles [ARTICLE]

Bombs and Bubbles

By AUSTIN ADAMS

“Everybody was there.” So the only way to be really distinguished was—not to be there. That’s why I wasn’t there. We send our children to school to learn to think—and then to the movies, whose chief function is to save us the bother of having to think. “Why do you love to tease us, Mr. Adams? For instance, last week you told us that a Mr. Norman Davey had created a sensation in London—and then, you mean old thing, you left us to guess why!” Well, Madam, I took it for granted that you (being a society leader) must of course keep yourself well informed by read’ng the very few really worth while books as they come out. So I naturally supposed you had read “The Pilgrim of a Smile” Norman Davey’s “sensation” —but as you evidently find ei< possible to be a leader without having to be a reader. I apologize. Speaking of big books: Mae ter-' linck’s “The Great Secret” is likely to remain a secret in Coronado, for exactly six (6) persons have taken it out of that Cemetery of Great Thoughts—our public library. I wonder how modem mothers find out that their young daughters are “never at home.” They must run across each other’s trail, I suppose. Yes, there’s hope for San DiegoThe enthusiasm of the audience the other night at Rachmaninov’s concert wasn’t “put on.” It was spontaneous, hearty, real. It showed that at least a thousand San Diegans really appreciate great art. Good! More power to the Amphion Club! And then the Three Arts Club begins to show signs of really “filling a longfelt want”—not only by electing ME as the first honorary life member, but by moving into their own clubhouse (at 1830 Fourth Street) and developing into something higher and better than a “mutual admiration society” or an opportunity for mediocrity to get “swelled head.” And now comes “Pegasus”—a small but significant poetry magazine published in San Diego and affording San Diego poets of real promise a vehicle for self-expression. Go right over to the Artemesia Book Shop, in Sixth street neat* B street, and subscribe to brave little “Pegasus”. But there’s another and sinister side to San Diego- Certain alleged “letters to the editor” have recently appeared in The Sun newspaper, purporting to voice a public demand for more “jazzy” programs for the daily organ concerts in Balboa Park, and criticizing the organist, Dr. Humphrey Stewart, for playing only highbrow stuff! In the name of the Great Horn Spoon—piffle! We should worry! DrStewart is an artist whose mastery of his art is recognised not only here in America (witness the honors bestowed upon him last year by the City of New York) but also in England, where he received the degree of Doctor of Music, and was appointed a member of the Board of Examiners —the highest authority on organ playing. “Jazz” on our glorious organ! Guess again, Mr. Editor of the Sun. Not while Humphrey Stewart lives. If you really received those letters (letters, you know, are some times written by editors to themselves —for ulterior ends) forget them.' Send your jazz lovers to Tiajuana, where they belong. Leave us our Music. The oldest Bible in the world (the Vedas) says: “He who believes *’ he does NOT know God, is he that DOES know Him; and he who believes that he knows Him is he that does not know Him. Those who know Him BEST regard Him as unknowable, and those who know NOTHING AT ALL of Him believe that they know Him perfectly!” (NOTE: I recommend these truths to the careful consideration of the Rev. Dr. Cocksure.) History fails to reveal what the slaves at Mount Vernon and Monti-

cello thought when they hear*! < v they evfer did hear) that their owners had solemnly proclaimed to the world “that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.” Ole Marse George Washington and Marse Thomas Jefferson was sho’ winkin’ at one 'nuther when dey done cracked dem hifalutin’ jokes! No, I wouldn’t think of, trying to rid society of all its follies and pretenses, for what would be left ? ZeroSo on with the dance! We’ve got a perfect little theatre in the High School; we've got an excellent and enthusdastic director in Mrs. Cutler; we’ve got a constantly growing number of clever actors graduating from our schools; we’ve got, I know, a lot of dramatic talent ;n some of our older neighbors; so why can’t we have regular community plays given by the community in our community playhouse? We CAN Let’s!