“Darling, put your arms around me,
Oh, for heaven’s sake!
Ain’t you awfully glad you found me?
Oh, for heaven’s sake!
Am I not your little beauty?
Are you not my little cutie?
Kiss me, kiss me, Sweet Patootie,
Oh, for heaven’s sake!”
* * * * *
Thousands of lonely women are staring at faded photographs when they
might be kissing the faces of children.
_Whiz Bang Editorials_
“_The Bull is Mightier Than the Bullet._”
Jazz life seems to agree with Americans. We not only live faster than
our great- grandparents, but, on the average, we also live eight years
longer. So says the Census Bureau.
Some day the centenarian will be the rule, not the exception. That will
come as a result of health education, not from eating monkey glands.
A popular song had this refrain: “He may be old, but he’s got young
ideas.” That appealed to popular fancy because it caught the subconscious
mind, which probably knew what the census now reports:
That marriages of persons beyond fifty years of age are steadily
increasing in numbers, already being frequent. Out of 100 American men
and women, 80 are married before they reach 45, while 10 take the leap
afterward and 10 remain single.
Divorces among those who have passed 45 are also becoming more common.
This, however, is not making us a cynical people, for the census finds
that the majority of divorced people try marriage at least a second time,
many making three or four ventures.
Figures—which never lie, though liars often figure—show that the span of
life is lengthening during the Jazz Age.
The strain at times gets on our nerves. Frequently one of the contestants
howls and goes to pieces. But, on the average, the real effects of the
Jazz Age will not show up until our descendants of one hundred years or
more hence.
* * * * *