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| June, 1949 Hi, gang! When I was a kid, I wanted to be a journalist-and here I am, still trying. My most recent attempt at this sort of thing came way back in 1935, when Hoboken’s Jersey Observer made me High School Sports & Hot Coffee Editor. I was supposed to write about high school sports and run out for coffee for the older members of the staff. Then some brightie got the idea of buying a coffee pot for the office-and I was out of a job. This is my first appearance in print since that happened. So I doubt that my writings in this column will be any serious challenge to Horace Greeley’s reputation as America’s first great newspaperman. Of one thing I’m sure: instead of wasting all those years just dreaming of the day I’d have a column of my own, I should have been thinking of something to say when I finally got one. Being caught alone out here in the middle of a blank piece of paper is far more frightening than being caught alone out in the middle of a stage. So please be patient while my typewriter finger is going through its toughening-up process. Maybe if you stick with me long enough, I’ll one day answer the question of who put the sneezing powder in Tommy Dorsey’s trombone My Typewriter Finger Points To... TELEVISION! Five years from now, a list of the top twenty names in television undoubtedly will include ten names that are unknown today. New ideas and new stars are just beginning to make their presence felt, and they’re beginning to get a strong toe-hold in key spots on television program schedules. No wonder top names in radio are rushing back to school! Star comics are firing gag writers and hiring memory experts. Girl vocalists are tossing out their slacks and ordering bouffant gowns. I’m one of the few radio performers who isn’t on a diet. Overnight, television has created a brand-new starting line in show business, and we’re all on it! We’re out to top the travelogues, the older feature pictures and the even older vaudeville acts. We know we can do that, but we’re also out to top the bright young lads who are coming up every day with inexpensive program ideas created especially for the TV camera and screen. We hope we can do that. By the time this magazine hits the stands, I expect to be getting ready to leave for London. My excuse for going is to play a few weeks at the Palladium, but my real reason is to spend some time backstage at the TV studios of the BBC. There, they’ve at least attempted to keep production development up to the pace of technical development, and they’re quite a few tricks ahead of our own boys, who got a late start. Maybe I’ll be able to swipe a few of them to keep me from being just another singer on just another TV show. Names From My Autograph Book: Each month, in this department, I’ll give you a friend’s-eye view of one of my Hollywood pals. And, to inaugurate this department, I had a few thoughts all ready to dance out on a guy I’ve come to know as a loyal professional buddy and a hard taskmaster-Gene Kelly. Now, I see Gene’s best gal, Betsy, has beaten me to the punch by writing her own story on Gene a few doors along in this issue, so I’ll just say I second the motion. I would like to add, though, that when I’d finished my chores in Take Me Out to the Ball Game, I was convinced I’d rather work with Gene than with any other actor. When he was in Ireland recently, the guy sent me a barrel of sod from the banks of the Shannon River. Remind me one day soon to send him my answer-a tank car of Italian spaghetti sauce. Okay, Nancy-start cooking! Yours, 
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