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17C  DAILY NEWS, FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 26, 1960

Dream Street
By ROBERT SYLVESTER

The Dotted Lines...

Who says newspapers aren't educational? I learned you can spell Carol, Carole and Caryl three different ways. . . . The producers of the Off-Broadway "The Secret Concubine" are in trouble. Can't find a concubine. . . . Judging from Andre's hairdo, that beauty parlor didn't gain an employe, it lost a customer. . . . I cannot tell a lie. I deserved that ticket I got on Washington's Birthday. . . . There's a new hospital planned. The patients will wake up the nurses at 3 A.M. and give them sleeping pills. . . . Among other discriminations which should be abolished, why is there no postal zone 15 in Manhattan? . . . Who taught Arthur Murray how to dance? . . . The gypsies are back with us and I would like to read about a 70-year-old woman who fleeces one of them out of her life savings. . . . The Dog House is at 5701 Moshulu Ave. I'm on my way. . . . Pretty Joan Staley plays "The Stranger" on Channel 4, Saturday, which is just what I wish she wouldn't be. . . . One Miami Beach hotel is so happy about the good weather, it's having a clearance sale on Man Tan.

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The jokes are so bad today you'd be better off reading the white space. . . . Jack Paar said it was all right for Bob Kintner to use the NBC limousine while he's away. . . . Jackie Gleason's new record sounds like a pipe dream. It's called "Opiate d'Amour." . . . The Antique Airplane Association meets at the Hotel Edison tomorrow. If the weather isn't too foggy. . . . Lilli Palmer's new film is "Conspiracy of Hearts" and I'd sure like to get involved. . . . I'm gonna belt the next gal who steals my martini olive while she's wearing gloves. . . . At the Voisin somebody described Tuesday Weld as too old play Peter Pan and too young to play Claudia. . . . With the Roxy Theatre being torn down, one of our best musical directors, Bob Boucher, is available. . . . Phyllis Diller at the Left Bank joined an antique car club in Texas. Restricted to Texans who own a Caddy that's more than six months old. . . . Frank D'Rone's new record "Joey, Joey, Joey" ought to goey, goey, goey.

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I"m getting an amicable divorce. She gets custody of the kids and I get custody of the credit cards. . . . Bewail the rides of March. Count Basie returns to Birdland March 10. . . . Sammy Kaye knows a guy whose wife narrowly missed an auto crash. She didn't take the car out of the garage. . . . The Cafe Continental in Larchmont has a Rich Grandmother Cocktail. One part gin and two parts cold water. . . . Armando is looking for a TV producer who gave him a Brand X check. . . . There was a girl with three hands in Art Ford's last night. Gussie Moran, who has a left, a right and a husband named Ed Hand. . . . Jan Murray's youngster is growing up. He asked for his allowance and added the 20% amusement tax. . . . Naturally enough, the Forum of the Twelve Caesars caters the food for the feasting scene in "Caligula". . . . I met a very unusual girl. She has a thing to wear and enough closet space. . . . Overheard at the Sacred Cow: "Things have changed. Ray Robinson is fighting more this winter than Sinatra is.". . . Fred Sessler, the Skoda auto dealer, doesn't know whose France is in worse shape. DeGaulle's or Marlon's. 

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If Laura La Plante saw "La Plume de Ma Tante," Julie Styne would have his next lyric. . . . Last week's Silent Film Festival at Carnegie Hall Playhouse was so wonderful it left me speechless. . . . And I thought that "Snow Queen" film was the best cartoon I ever thaw. . . . George Bernard, of the Latin Quarter's brothers of the same name, says a plastic surgeon did a great job on his mother-in-law. She no longer looks like an old woman, she looks like an old man. . . . Irwin Corey's answer to a heckler at the Village Vanguard: "If you weren't here, I'd invent you." . . . Dick Havilland and his droll talk held over at the Arpeggio. . . . Goldie Hawkins has thought up an award for disk jockeys. Called Gimmys. . . . Dorothy Sarnoff saw a motorist get arrested for stopping on a dime. The dime was in a pedestrian's pocket. . . . Remind me to leave my jug home the next time I visit India. 
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