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The Inside Dope

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They had a big party at the Sun office last week to celebrate this weekly foolishness, and for once they let the Iffster out of the closet and into the crowds- wearin' a disguise, o' course, so nobody could try to bullshit me just to get in print. Not that there wasn't plenty o' that unpleasant substance around, to be sure, with some folks even rollin' it up and tryin' to pass it off as joints.

But I did have the pleasant experience o' meetin' quite a few o' the new recruits around here, even if they didn't know just who they were spillin' out their souls to. A feller callin' himself Aero Pagitica said he plans to cut Iffy out o' the media-watchin' business with his own weekly diatribes, an' a truly remarkable specimen of womanhood name o' Roz Newberry was carryin' on about all the stuff she was gonna do to bring the advertisin' department up to par.

I had to listen to that real close, since I been around long enough to know what butters the bread at a newspaper operation, an' I need a raise badder'n any o' these young whippersnappers around here. Another sensational young woman- my ol' heart beats fast just recallin' her name- came up an' said she was in charge o' the circulation department, bringin' in the subscriptions and stuff like that. Katy Davis, she calls herself, an' you can ring her up at 961-3555 as soon as you're ready to pry loose a few bucks for a subscription.

Gary Grimshaw, who the Iffster's been followin' ever since his first poster for the Grande Ballroom hit the walls back in 1966, laid me out with the news that he's now workin' full-time at The Sun as Associate Art Director, in charge o' puttin' all the pages into shape every week.

Then there's Woody Miller an' Marc McCulloch o' Midtown Associates, the seasoned young fellers who took over the advertisin' department a month or so ago. They were fallin' all over themselves tryin' to get t' know everybody that came in the door, but they already know more folks in town than Carter has little liver pills-an' I don't mean the Atomic Peanut, neither.

Lemme see . . . there was a delightful lady name o' Carol Adgers who's holdin' down the front desk now, an' a wild-eyed young cuss called J.T. who sez he's gonna wire up all the newsstand outlets in the area, an' an Islamic feller named Isa Abdul-Basir who's in charge o' all the coinboxes, an' another woman name o' Majida Kinnard who's holdin' the distribution department together, an' one o' th' east side's most dynamic creations, a peppy young woman called Bobbie Bowden who's the new assistant production manager, an'-last but certainly not least -the two staff writers they finally hired to give the editorial staff a chance at normal livin': Kathy Jackson an' Henry "Buzz" Reske. These two'll be chasin' down the stories an' then writin' 'em up, an' they come to you with th' Iffster's own personal recommendation.

Hey, with people like these it ain't so bad writin' about the stuff they always want me to put in- I mean, it just ain't the same as it used t' be around here, for some reason, an' I want ya t' know that it fits around the Iffster like water around a fish. Hope they have some more parties like that one. . . real soon !