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[[image: ad for restaurant: cartoon of man in propeller aircraft holding box of STONE CRABS]]
are swimming again and Joe is flying'em in again
We get so many requests for STONE CRABS that as soon as the season opens we start flying them in every other day. This GREAT DELICACY IS IN A CLASS BY ITSELF and is now being served daily. So, c'mon in and enjoy them while the season lasts!
Live Entertainment Nightly in The Showboat Bar and Lounge
American Express and All Major Credit Cards
Joe s Pier 52 144 WEST 52nd STREET
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[[image: potted palm fern in decorative ceramic pot on a stand]]
After tonight's performance the audience will scatter to the four winds, but don't be surprised if you find the producer, the director, the author, and the lead players have gathered for a light supper, some soft music, and some good talk at our Palm Court. If they're not there, look in the Oak Bar, the Oyster Bar, or Trader Vic's.
Nothing unimportant every happens at The Plaza.
The Plaza.
On the Park at Fifth and 59th.
Call 800-228-3000 or your travel agent.
Partners in travel with United Airlines [[image: logo]]

wrought has been nearly complete and resurrection requires more faith than most of us possess."

Nor are these, should I care to boast, the worst of my press notices. People have written about me in terms that I swear I would not address to a lame dog with a sore throat trying to sing "Trovatore" on a barge making its way down the Hudson in a fog. Unless the dog struck me as pretentiousness.

What has happened to me over the years has indeed helped me to place myself in the theatre, and into what the theatre means. Or what criticism means. I am a journalist but I am also very much a part of the theatre. I am a theatre worker. I suffer with the theatre. I swear with the theatre. I bleed with the theatre. If the theatre starves I starve. I am the intelligent tick on the backside of genius. Hopefully.

I enter the theatre as its friend and its servant. I am not an adversary. I am an interpreter and a guardian-an interpreter of mysteries it did not know needed interpreting and a guardian of treasures that close don Saturday night. I am here because I love the theatre with the kind of passion that would make me pay for tickets, and gives both my love and my anger the unconscious edge of sincerity.

In my first crazy New York Broadway season a large lady arrived at Tom Stoppard's Rosencrantz and Guildernstern Are Dead. She was bedizened with bags from Bloomingdales and other symbols less obvious to the immediate sight. The play had only been on a few minutes. Ten perhaps. She was in the front row. They always are. She raised her immense bulk, like a China Clipper in full sail, tirned majestically to the audience, and announced in a voice even stentorian enough for her ample presence: "That CLIVE BARNES! What does he know, from nothing!" She then trampled her way out, like a cow-elephants are in search of. That CLIVE BARNES! What does he know? What can I tell you? I'm around, I live in the neighborhood, I see the plays, and I tell you what I think. What did you expect, lady? A witch doctor?

[[image: ad for Carolina flavored riced, showing color photo of a dish of cooked rice with a blob of butter on top; in foreground a photo of same food with a glass of white wine and another dish in back of shot]]
Rice tastes best when it's baked.
So Bake-It-Easy.
Only your oven has the wrap-around heat to bake in Bake-It-Easy's taste, and deep-blend all its savory, juicy flavors to give you baked rice at its best. And you get it in just fifteen minutes. You don't simmer, you don't saute. You just Bake-It-Easy. From Carolina.

flavored rice
better because it's oven-baked
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