November 3, 1933 - Friday

Dear Family,

The book has been returned, and that removes that situation. I know who I have to thank for my help, and I certainly appreciate it.

Carl Johnson blew in from Pasadena, today. I have been with him all day, and he has been telling me all about his none too successful adventures as a young actor. I guess he is going to give it up as a bad job. He is going to be here for awhile, and then he is going back to California where he has a job waiting for him with the people that make the pyrex glass. You know the glass that they make insulators out of? I wouldn’t mention that he is here in any of your letters to Bend, because I don’t think he intends going up there.

This week end is homecoming, and all the grads are rolling in. tonight, there is to be a big rally parade down town with the big frosh bonfire on the hill. The town has certainly gone collegiate for the week end.

I have sent the note back to Chicago, so I suppose I will be getting the money before long. It certainly worries me about how I am ever going to pay it back.

The best news of the day or of the month or of any old place is that my little Annie is coming up for Christmas. She will arrive in Portland the day after Christmas and be there until school starts. She will come down to school with me, and stay here about a week before going home. I have been on air all day, thinking about it. Boy oh boy oh boy, am I going to have a good time.

Tomorrow is the game, and I have a job working at it. I am making quite a little money this year doing that stuff. I am lucky to be doing it, because they are only supposed to hire the athletes. That last is another example of your commercialized sports. The nuts in my estimation. I don’t get rich at it, understand, but I do make enough to go to a show once in awhile. As I don’t go very often, there is plenty.

I have written eight letters today, including yours. That is quite a record, don’t you think? I have written to Alumni, to Dave Eyre who is in Egypt, to you, to Annie, and to others.

Slick Udall is in town, and of course very much in evidence. I certainly like him in spite of the fact that he is the world’s worst handshaker.

Love, Brother