Message by the Honorable Paul Laxalt, Governor of Nevada

"The generosity of the human heart is reflected in the gaiety and laughter of the holiday season. It is a time when we recognize all men as brothers and look upon their sufferings with compassion.

It is my wish to you that these wondrous moments remain as a part of your lives. The wish is as old as mankind; it has been offered in every tongue, but never more eloquently than 2,000 years ago: 'Glory to god in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.' "- Paul Laxalt

"Peace on earth, Good Will to all men. The ages-old message once again is being repeated throughout America and throughout much of the world as we near the end of another year and the Christmas season

Peace on earth is probably the greatest desire of our civilization. Certainly it has been demonstrated time and again, and in many way, to be one of the greatest desires of Americans. Good Will to all men is another of the great desires of mankind and in this nation we are ever seeking the pathway to good will to all men, though sometimes by unreasonable and most devious routs.

Peace on Earth. Good Will to all men. To achieve peace, we must have good will. And when we have attained good will on all levels of our society and mong all people, then and only then shall we have the lasting peace which we have fought and died for.

Neither are impossible to attain and both are within reach of mankind, once we dedicate our lives, our thinking and our actions toward what surely is a common goal of all.

It is a rather sad commentary on our society that at Christmas time peace on earth and good will to all men gains prominence and is foremost with us all, yet at other times of the year we seem to lose sight of and seem to forget this great inspirational message fostered by Christianity and the brotherhood of man. It is almost beyond comprehension that we, as a united people, have the resources to enable us to land men on the moon and return them to this earth and yet - while we do have the resources, we are unable or unwilling to identify those which would bring peace on earth and good will to all men.

At Christmas time we look with tender, open hearts to the impoverished, to the under-privileged, to the sick - to anyone who has less of the good life than we do. We still are able to see through and beyond the stone wall of commercialism that to a large degree has distorted the real and meaningful spirit of Christmas. If peace on earth and good will to all men is good and proper at Christmas time, why is it not good and proper throughout the rest of the year? It is enough that we sign our names to a gaudy greeting card carrying the message and then promptly forget it once we return to the routineness of living when the holidays are past?

Just as we now look ahead to Christmas, we as individuals and as a nation must look ahead if we are to meet the challenges and solve the problems which confront our society. Certainly we can profit from our past mistakes and we can resolve never again to commit the errors or permit the conditions which presently pose a very real and dangerous threat to our way of life. But we will never meet the challenges nor solve the problems by constantly looking in the past for someone or something on which to place the blame for today's troubles. We can no more undo the wrongs of past generations than we can turn the clock back, and dwelling on the mistakes and wrongs of yesterday is simply delaying the day when peace on earth and good will to all men does in fact become reality and not, as it is for some, merely a popular phrase associated with Christmas.

We who are citizens of Las Vegas have every right to be among the most proud of any community on earth. In a little more than half a century we have carved from the desert a community of fine homes, schools, churches, shopping centers and an industry that has made out city first and foremost of its kind in the world. How did we do this? By looking ahead. Had we as a community turned our backs on progress and continually looked to the past instead of daring to move ahead, today we would still be nothing more than a wayside watering hole, and probably wondering why others had forged ahead while we stood still. Is that any reason, then, that the same attitudes, the same foresight, the same dedication and the same willingness to work hard cannot be applied to the task of building our society just as they enabled us to build a city?

For some, perhaps, it becomes easier to cloud the real issues of today by being able to fall back on the errors of the past. But whatever the problem, whether it be pollution, unemployment, racial unrest, injustice or any of the ills of our society, we don't find the solutions by blaming past generations or conditions - neither of which we can do anything about.

Let us quit leaning on the crutch of what those who have gone before us did, or failed to do, and make up our minds to apply the knowledge we have gained from yesterday's mistakes to a united, forward and positive action program.

Peace on earth and good will to all men. Once those words become a firm determination in the hearts and minds of us all, then can they be achieved." - Oran K. Gragson, Mayor

"It's Christmas again, luvs. Take a moment and recall in retrospect your merriest Christmas ever. Then let's make this one of your happiest, God willing!

The Yule tradition in our Mormon family in Utah was Christmas at its best. Everyone had a share in the formal festivities. By the time I was eight I still believed devotedly in Santa Claus. I still do, except I now realize that Santa Claus comes in various sorts, shapes and characters. It was felt somehow that the family's only child now in the third grade at school, had a way of overdoing Christmas Cheer. 'But are we not, dear Grandmama, to share our joys with everyone - the destitutes, the sick, and the poor?' I asked, 'and especially at Christmas!'

Grandmama would patiently explain that we did, indeed, but bringing everyone and anyone (and me, 'the strays') home was another matter, since the big house in spite of its 22 rooms, had its limits. And all of the grandchildren and uncles and auents who'd be coming for Christmas dinner, 38 at last count, was all Florabel (our live-in long-suffering maid) could contemplate, in spite of the extra maids always employed to assist her on each holiday.

So came the snow a few days before Christmas Eve. The first flurry of soft flakes whitened the window ledges, then the proches and clustered on the branches and the leaves of the trees. Overnight it fell, and by morning the red berry bushes were heavy with its burden. While the grape arbors looked like fairy castle portals, and the tall pines glistened with icy cones. And the big bay windows on the first floor framed the winter whiteness outside, embellishing the lilac trees and the stately buckeyes. And when the sun came out it glistened as millions of diamonds. At sundown the snow made the sky a grey shell lighting the great windows, and added to the rosy hues of logs burning brightly with their warmth from the hearths. Snow rose to five feet deep in the walks and lay on the sloping rooftops like neat borders, and the brook that ran through the gardens murmured respectfully under its whitness.

Mama was being very brave, for this was the second year that Papa was away in the health sanitarium, and we had to go on without him. Mama busied herself and dressed the windows and the mantlepieces with holly and tied branches of mistletoe and pine with wide red velvet ribbons. The staircase was garlanded from the second floor and I made a fram of holly and pine splashed with red satin bows for Papa's photograph in the library. OUtside, kids made merry with snowballs and sleighs flying down the hill. Inside Grandmama, Mama and Florabel kept buy in the big cheerful kitchen, turning out wonders like plum pudding, home-made minemeat for pies, Christmas cookies of all s hapes, popcorn balls, salting almonds andmaking yummy Christmas candy.

This was the frist year that Santa Clause had informed Mama very early that we are to get our own tree and trim it ourselves. This was a great surprise, for heretofore Dear Mr. Santa Clause had miraculously delivered the glittering Christmas tree along with all the gifts between Christmas Eve and Christmas morning. The Christmas tree always stood in front of the great glass picture window of the drawing room, so its colorful array of lights and glitter could be reflected on the snow outside, and be enjoyed by passerby. It was always a big tree, that stood almost to the ceiling. The ceilings were very high in those great rooms.

It was always the family's feeling that a traditional Christmas tree should be as old-fashioned as possible, with organments and lights usually imported from Europe, where they made such marvelous ones. There was never an all red and white, or a green and white, or a blue and silver tree at our house. No indeedy. We had the fresh green pine, whose gragrance was drawn by the heat from the fireplaces to permeate the whole house. And on this Christmas we were all to engage in its trimming. The boxes were brought down from the attic, all systematically labeled for their contents and year. New trimmings were added also year to year. And this day before Christmas we would all trim the beautiful bush big green tree which had presided just a few days before so proudly in the Rocky Mountain range, whose majestic heights we viewed from the east windows.

Early that evening I had permission to go Christmas caroling. There were four girls and five boys and we had been rehearing Christmas carols ever since Thanksgiving. Now we pooled our reports on who lived alone and would be the loneliest. And to whom we could give the greatest happiness with our carol serenade on Christmas Eve.

The list added up to ten. Warm in our furry coats, mittens, bonnets and caps, off we trudged in the white snow, intent and joyous in our act of giving. Happily our songs were received at the first four houses. Thank yous were expressed from the doorways. At the fifth the lady came out and gave us cookies with a 'God bless you little angels.' At the sixth we were well into out second carol when a man with his fair frowsy, his eyes red, his face drawn and also red, abruptly opened the door, and hollering, threw a shoe at us with a volley of verbal insults which all added up to 'Get the hell out of here with your confounded noise!'

Not idsheartened, since thekids decided he was drunk and didn't know what he was saying, we went to the next two with rewarding success. At the last on our list, a tine one-room house which stood off the road to itself, lived a woman whom the naughty kids of school used to taunt and call a witch. We sent filled with love and sharing. We sand Silent Night, Merry Christmas, Away in the Manger, and Jingle Bells. The woman poked her head out, exclaiming, 'You children are the only ones in the whole word to remember me on Christmas.' Then she began to cry.

We children felt badly to see such unhappiness! we rushed to her, and assured her that everyone loved everyone on Christmas. 'I have no Christmas' she said. 'I have no one. My one and only friend died two months ago. I am so alone.' And she wept bitterly. One of the kids whispered that she had perhaps had a bit too much wine to drown her sorrows. Being a Mormon who knew nothing about the levitation of the spirits with spirits, so to day, I was filled with an overwhelming sympathy. This poor lady, so along and Christmas on the morning. I would bring her Christmas, indeed I would. Jesus taught in the Bible it is better to give than to receive.

Since we had already spent two days decorating the house, our house looked like a Christmas picture postcard of Yule cheer. Uncles James, my bachelor uncle who lived in Grandpapa's house across the drive, came and took color pictures of the rooms. He had me stand by the Christmas tree. When he snapped the shutter he said I could use the picture for my Christmas cards next year.

Now it was all ready - all of this exciting preparation for Christmas morning. The tables, two of them, one for the adults and one for the brandchildren, were set with snowy white linen. And centered with candles fastened at their bottoms with bits of green and red berries and gold and silver and red balls. Christmas wreaths extended around the table. 'It does look worth the effort,' snorted Florabel, who always complained that her side and her back acted up at Christmastime because she had so much more to do.

Christmas morning was joyful. Opening a huge silver box I heard a faint mew. Inside was the most adorable fluffy silver gray kitten this side of a calendar. 'Oh!' I exclaimed, 'Can I keep it?' Mama smilled assent. We had always been a dog family, what with our Scotch collie and Papa's big white hunting dogs with thier black spots, the latter of course were kept on Grandpapa's farm outside the city.

'A kitten this time of year is out of season,' Florabel sniffed from the hall where she was peeking into see who got what. 'Where did you ever get it?' she asked Mama. 'Santa Clause can get anything anytime,' I spoke up with dignity. 'Santa Claus brought it, Florabel'. Poor woman, she was losing her marbles, getting so confused.

Atop some of the gifts were Christmas corsages to wear. They were fashioned of the Christmas rose (Helleborus niger) and were tastefully tied with silver ribbons. Out in the kitchen Christmas punch was being made for the huge cut glass punch bowl. 'A pint of champagne or brandy would better it a lot,' Florabel complained. Grandmama gave Florabel a Mormon look. That ended that. A huge bowl of eggnog was readied and was carried into the library for the restive table for comopnay who might drop in. There was a big fruitcake and pecan fingers, and nutty cookie balls, almond macaroons, and silver and crystal platters of homemade chocolates, fudge, divinity and peanut brittle that Mama had been making tehse past two weeks. They were now placed in order in the bonbon dishes. And the salted almonds and walnuts and percans roasted in our own ovens filled the silver nut dishes.

I kept thinking of that poor lonely lady who had no Christmas. I asked Mama's permission to take her a gift. She gave me a bottle of perfurm, and we wrapped it beautifully. Donning my boots and coat, woolen mittens and bonnet, I was off to make the delivery before dinner. She was actually a very pretty lady, I decided, when she invited me into her little house. She opened the gift and she began to cry again. She was so lonely, so alone. No one with any heart or the spirit of Christmas could leave her alone and crying on Christmas day, of all days! Certainly I suggested, 'Come home with me for dinner. My Mama and my Grandmama would love to have you.' At first she declined. Then she suggested that I first telephone my Mama and ask permission. I did so, and found Mama a little hesitant. 'What's the lady's name?' she asked. I didn't know and I could not very well ask in the lady's presence. Mama, sensing my discomfort at the other end of the wire, asseted. 'There won't be room at the big table - it is already too crowded - but if she doesn't mind being seated in the library at a small table," Mama signed, 'perhaps you and I can take turns and sit with her. It is impossible to squeeze one more person at the big table. And the children's table is over-flowing too!'

The lady said she would not mind at all. She dressed so pretty. I decided she was a very pretty lady and we went home. Florabel gasped when we arrived and she answered our ring. But she managed to cover her feelings which seemed to be for some reason pure shock! She did manage a Merry Christmas. Mama was gracious and showed us both into the library where a table had already been set.

I ventured into the kitchen to see how soon dinner was to be served and walked into a hornet's nest. Florabel confronted me accusingly, 'Now you've done it, Missy. Now you've done it real good; always putting your foot into where your mouth should not be either!' 'But what have I done?' I asked innocently. 'You're too young to know!' Florabel replied. 'And your mother doesn't know either!' With that Florabel vanished into the butler's pantry to play major domo to our two maids hired special for the day.

I looked at the delicious dinner about to be served. The turkey with its filling and the regrigerator rolls, for which I had helped mix the scalded milk and flour and yeast, now nice and brown and hot in the warming ovens. Aunt Minine's salad dressing was on the cole slaw. Mama's homemade pickle of green tomatoes, and Grandmama's corn relish, peach preserves and cranberry sauce were in cut glass bowls ready for serving. The apple pineapple banana orange fruit salad was garlanded with walnuts. I could hear Florabel arguring with one of the maids who insisted about 'the possiblity of getting some brandy to pour on the plus pudding so it will flame, to be carried in great style for the dessert course!' 'We Mormons,' sniffed Florabel, don't have anything like that here, except in the medicine cabinet for medicnial purposes!'

The members of the family were pouring in, shaking off the snow, depositing their frosty boots and coats in the reception hall closets, and coming into the drawing room to warm themselves before the hearth. When anyone moved towards the library, if Florabel was present, they were drawn away. Although Mama and I kept taking turns entertaining our guest. I didn't mind too much being away from the big table, since it was making the pretty lady happy to have Christmas dinner. Besides we must all sacrifice and share as they said in Sunday School.

After dessert was served, I offered to talk my guest home, fearful that Florabel, who was acting real snotty, might forget her manners. Florabel by her actions obviously didn't like the pretty lady. However, the lady said she would like to sit and enjoy the Yule logs a few moments longer. That proved to be fatal.

Aunt Rosemary Mabel had asked where little Missy was keeping herself. She had slipped out of the drawing room and headed straight for the library to see me and my new Christmas kitten, whome I had already named Fluffy. I naturally arose to introduce Aunt Rosemary Mabel to my guest. Except Aunt Rosemary Mabel, who was a very pios woman, arched her back and stood transfixed in her footsteps in horror! She was staring at my guest in disbelief. 'I should think a woman like you should know better than to come into a good fine respectable Christian home,' flared aunt Rosemary Mabel with instant indignation. And she witdraw with all of the dignity and haughty aloofness of the Queen of England had she been outraged.

Grandmama had walked in just in time to hear Aunt Rosemary Mabel's tirade. 'I'm sorry for my daughter-in-law's lack of manners,' Grandmama said. 'That awful woman, she runs a house,' flared Aunt Rosemary Mabel, rushing back from the hall and disappearing again. 'Is it a rooming house, my dear?' Grandmama asked sweetly. 'So many people have misfortunes and have to turn their homes to boarders, these days.' The pretty lady seemed very confused. 'I always say no matter how humble a house is, nor great it i has been, if a good woman has it, it is home, a real home,' said Grandmama.

At that point Mama walked in. Mama had obviously been informed of some dire facts by Aunt Rosemary Mabel, for she graciously told Grandmama she was wanted back in the drawing room. Then Mama talked to the pretty lady as though nothing had happened at all. She said she was glad that she could have Christmas dinner with us.

My pretty lady said, 'Thank you. You have done so much for me. You have made my Christmas happy. If people only had more tolerance for the less fortunate.' 'Please forgive Aunt Rosemary Mabel,' I apologized. 'She probably ate too much turkey or something and had a stomachache to act that way.' Mama apologized that the family table hadn't been larger. And she tucked a box of Christmas goodies under the pretty lady's arm. 'You are so good, so sweet, so kind,' the pretty lady said to Mama, with tears springing in her eyes. 'I should not have come, but I desperately needed some happiness on this day when so many are happy' and she left.

When Mama and I returned to the drawing room there was a great silence. 'Well,' Uncle James said to me, 'You certainly have a faculty for involving everyone in the most wolrdshattering matters, don't you, little Missy?' Mama said, 'Come now, she has done nothing so wrong.' 'To think I'd see the day that a woman like that would be a guest in this house. And we'd all be under the same roof!' exploded Aunt Rosemary Mabel. 'Shhhhh,' Grandmama, now enlightened to the cause of the hubbub, cautioned. 'Remember, little hcildren have big ears. I think the discussion should end right now. As Jesus said, who is to cast the first stone. You will remember that scripture in the Bible.' It wasn't until years later, when I was all grown up, that a cousin revealed to my innocent ears how I had caused a family scandel. That pretty lady that Christmas day, had at one time run 'The House' with the big red light across the tracks!' 'So you had set another precedent for Christmas with love and charity in your hear for all fellow men,' smiled Mama years later when we discussed it. 'I'd do it again,' I said, 'if I knew anyone so unhappy at Christmas.' and so I did! Polly Adler, who ran the most exclusive red light house in New York, had come to California. She had resigned from her former career to become a bestselling author. She called me to say 'thank you' for a review I had given her bestselling book, 'House Is Not A Home' which was made into a movie.

'What are you doing for Christmas?' she asked. 'Im holding my usual open house,' I replied. Then on second thought, I realized the reason she had asked was perhaps because she was lonely on Christmas Day. I invited her to drop in. I perchanced to mention that face that the color Polly Adler who was currently much in the news on TV and radio talk shows, might drop by on Christmas day, to a socialite couple. She exclaimed, 'but you wouldn't in vite a wwoman like that to your home?' My socialist cousins arrived in elegance in their chauffeured limousine. I seated them at one end of the big living room trusting that with so many guests, a hundred or so, during the course of the day, if Polly Adler came by, they wouldn't meet.

Polly arrived and I seated her at the opposite end of the room where she proved so entertaining that my movie star guests gathered around her. Their laughter was so contagious that my socialite elegant cousins seated at the other end of the room were drawn to see what the hilarity was all about.

I shall never forget my cousin's face, when she recognized Polly! Polly smiled and said, 'Sit down and enjoy yourself, dear. Your brother used to be one of my best customers in New York, in the old days. I feel like we're family!'

Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas." - May Mann

"Wha' happened? I'm still working on last year's Christmas column and now I've got to start all over. This once a year epistle takes me out of the lounges and allows me to ramble. And for those who know, you know I do ramble at times. I thought it would be kinda fun and maybe interesting for my frank opinion of some of the people I have interviewed since coming to this town some 11-1/2 years ago.

I was brought here from back east to program radio station KBMI in October of 1959. At that time the studio was located in the Flamingo Hotel and this town was like Never Never Land to me. Coming from the state of Virginia, you just don't get the exposure to show business that you get here. So, naturally, I was awed, star-struck and a little nervous. I then started afternoon interviews with some of the people who worked in our town periodically and strangely enough I got to enjoy it. I also discovered that all performers are very different behind a mike or in front of a camera than onstage. My first interview was Ray Anthony, who was playing the Sahara Lounge with a brand new act. Having given up the big band, Ray featured a small group and two beautiful girls, Diane Hall and Anita Rey. Where Diane is or what she is doing now, I don't know, but Anita is now Mrs. Gus Mancuso and lives here in LV. Back to Ray, and remember, the following in my impression of a lot of people. If some of my opinions seem a little salty, its because that was the way it appeared to me. Ready? Let's go:

RAY ANTHONY: Much shorter than I thought he would be. With the looks of a movie idol. Very at east while talking about his new act. UP tight about some of his personal likes and dislikes. Extremely friendly, all-knowing about that he wants and how to do it. A perfectionist in everything he does. Does not like to dwell too long in the past. A good talker.

THE CHORDETTES: (Remember Mr. Sandman?) Four ladies who looked more like the typical suburban housewives. Four ladies who, at the time, did not take show business too seriously and much preferred to talk about other things not related to the industry. Four ladies who evaded the question concerning their stay with Arthur Godfrey. Four ladies, who after one interview, said it all.

TONY BENNETT: Caught him while he was appearing at the Dunes. First met him at the Club 86 in Geneva, New York and, naturally, he did not remember. Always smiling, very polite. The interview went something like this: ME: Tony, it's been a long time since Geneva. TONY: Yea. ME: Isn't it great working in a place like LV? TONY: Yea. ME: Do you find today's music monopolizing your choice of material? TONY: No. . . . And so it went. a nice guy, but at that time not too talkative. He's different today. After a series of one word answers, we ended the interview and he told my boss in words to this effect, 'Say, that guys a good interviewer' He left while my mouth was still wide open. My what a difference a few years make. He's everyone's singer and more relaxed. A delight to interview.'

DINAH WASHINGTON: Dinah was the target for bad press and her publicity agent did not do anything to counter this. All the critics panned her because of her acid tongue. The trouble was, those critics did not take the time to know her. I had met her some eight years prior to our meeting here. She confessed on the air that she was not happy with the audiences she gathered at the Thunderbird Lounge. She claimed they were rude, inattentive and very caustic in their remarks to her while she was onstage. I had to agree with her. Dinah's voice and interpretation of a song were appreciated only if you were quit and listened. I found her relaxed with me yet nervous at the same time. To me, she was a grand lady and a true legend. I still have the pair of argyle socks she made for me. And I miss her musical genius. A victim of bad timing.

PHYLLIS DILLER: Always on - funny - and believe it or not - somewhat sexy. If you are a friend of Diller's, you are a friend for life. This came to light when she talked about her friends of years past and some of her newer acquaintances. I made the mistake of trying to top her during our short interview. Warning to others - don't try it. Once of the truly genuine funny gals.

JULIET PROWSE: At first very stuffy, aloof and cold. It was as if she did not want to be there and preferred a slow death instead. ONce on a subject she related to, it was smooth sailing from then on. But, oh, getting to that subject, you sweat more than they do.

ANDY WILLIAMS: Interview took place before TV show was dreamed of. Impression at that time, the guy next door, your best friend while in college, your best friend while married, unaware of his talent and content to just sing and hope someone like it. Different now. Can't get to him because of an army of people surrounding him. He is now an industry.

VIC DAMONE: If you are a friend of Vic's, you are a friend for life. If you are on the other side of the fence, you might stay there for the rest of your life. You get the impression that Vic doesn't even know he has one of the great voices of our time and yet we know he does. Warm, soft spoken, and the idol of other singers. HOw good is he? I see him at least six times every time he's in town. Nice people.

JOE WILLIAMS: Of course, most people think of JOe as the greatest blues singer in the world. But have they listened to him? Joe is Mr. Neighbor to all of us. Talking to Joe, he will not dodge any subject thrown his way. He is concerned, naturally, about civil rights, the history of his people, but he believes, as we all should, we are all one. He is extremely witty, goes overbroad when complimenting other singers, and is impatient with mediocrity. Would still rather sing with the Basie band than any other. Worships the game of golf and devoted to his wife, Jillian. One of my best friends and he still makes the best vodka martini in town. No one can say a bad word about Joe Williams.

SI ZENTNER: Si knew what he wanted back in the fifties. He wanted a big band that worked and worked hard enough to be the most popular band in the land. Now, mind you, he wanted this when all the other big bands gave up the fight to R&R.; But Si stuck to it, got that hit record Up a Lazy River and realized his ambition. When interviewing Si, I found him completely confident in himself and his band. After all those years on the road, he thought he was due for something good and evidently so did the public. Interesting to note when I asked him to pick his all time, all start big band, he picked himself on lead trombone. That's what I call confidence. YOu don't push a man like that out of the picture. A long time in coming.

THEODORE BIKEL: Very relaxed, self assured, as if he knew what we were thinking before we aid it. And always smiling. Does he know something we don't?

FLORENCE HENDERSON: A pussycat, a delight, a living doll. She could be your next door neighbor, if you live on Riverside Drive. Completely outgoing, outspoken, completely natural, she is the ideal interview. I fell in love with her that afternoon, but, alas, she is happily married. This is the kind of girl I would want at my next charade party. And on my side.

TONY RANDALL: I was prepared to meet a very snobby man. But no, in walked a dapper blade of a man, hand extended and saying, 'Hi bob I'm Tony Randall.' As if I didn't know. I found Tony an expect on just about every subject we discussed. But get him on the subject of radio in the 30's and 40's. Did you know that he was the original Reggie on I Love A Mystery? I was told before Tony over that he could spend only about 15 minutes. He stayed for two hours. Never had I enjoyed an interview as much as that one.

MICKEY ROONEY: To me the Mick was a legend. Someone to be admired in awe. Getting the chance to meet and talk to him put me on edge. When MIckey arrived I was at east and Mickey was extremely nervous. Maybe he was tired, but he was very difficult to talk to and gave the impression that he could not wait to get of there. One legend shot down. I still say he and Sammy Davis, Jr., are the two most talented people in show business.

RUSTY WARREN: Here is a gal who is basic, down to earth and much fun to be around. Rusty's main aim in life is living it for all it's worth. She never forgets a friend and the people who have helped her get where she is today. Truthfully, the first to cry out for the woman's liberation movement. If she seems honest onstage, she is the same way off stage. I love this dame. And I'm not alone.

WAYNE NEWTON: I first interviewed Wayne when he and his brother Jerry were playing the Fremont downtown. Would you believe ten shows a night? This is what I call really 'going to school' for your craft. Wayne then is the same as Wayne now. Your younger brother. It seems to me that Wayne invented the standing ovation. Onstage he is pure excitement. Off stage he is 'Mr. Nice.' And this is no act. Would you believe we are distant cousins? Well, we do. Wayne is a pleasure to interview. One of the easiest.

LOUIS PRIMA: Louis is your next door neighbor who just happens to be in show business. Louis is very modest and reluctant to talk about his beginning in this business. Keeps his personal life just that, personal. Willing to talk about his golf club and his music at the drop of a hat. His act onstage is just that. An act. Off stage, Louis is one of the smartest business men you'll find anywhere. REmember, this is the guy who invented the lounge scene and has been a headliner ever since.

WILD BILL ELLIOT: The late Gordon Elliot was a real cowboy before going into movies. It was after he made the Columbia movie serial, 'Wild Bill Hickock' that he was forevermore known as Wild Bill Elliot. When Bill and his family moved to LV to stay, I made it my personal crusade to get him on my radio show. Of all the stars I have interviewed, Wild Bill was my favorite as I 'lived" with him every Saturday afternoon at the local movie house. For 15 weeks I rode with Wild Bill Elliot. So you can imagine my anticipation of meeting the man whom I admired as a kid. I had one hard time trying to locate him. Now, this is the kind of guy Bill Elliot was. He heard about my trying to contact him and he called me at home. He also heard that I was a movie buff and loved the westerns of the 30's and 40's. We made a date to meet at KRAM one Wednesday afternoon. Now, I have a small collection of western guns and rifles, so naturally I took them with me. I wait and finally in walked Bill Elliot. He was thinner than I thought he would be and a little smaller. But the ten gallon Stetson was the same and the suit was pure up-to-date cowboy. We talked about every guy who ever made a western or a serial. The stars and the character players. Had it not been for the time factor, we could have talked for at least 24 hours on this one subject. It was as if both of us had found a mutual sounding board. After five minutes my idol was just a great guy who you were proud to call a friend. After our interview he stood up smiled and said, 'Bob, let's do this again next week.' Next week Bill Elliot was dead, and so was a piece of movie history.

WILL JORDAN: Will was the first guy to impersonate Ed Sullivan on TV and is still one of the best mimics around as he does the off beat impressions. I found Will to be my kind of people, a trivia nut. On my TV show, Will displayed a priceless collection of original Mickey Mouse watches. A collection worth in the thousands. But Will loves trivia. And if you get home going he will expound on old movies, radio, or early TV. One night we sat in a local bistro playing trivia from midnight till either in the morning. And I'm still wondering, who won? Will should play LV more often. His attitude toward sho biz is more realistic than it was ten years ago. A warm talented man.

I just realized something. This Christmas column could possibly get to be over 100 pages long. Mind you, these are only a fraction of the people I've talked to in the 11 years that I have lived here. People like KiKi Paige, Irv Benson and Jack Mann, Jerry Vale, Woody Herman, Woody Woodbury, Don Cornell, Marty May and June Johnson, Morgana King, Jan Murray, Jackie Gayle, Sandler and Young, Louis Nye, Mel Torme, and many others. Where else in this country, or for that matter, in the world, can you find so many talented people concentrated in one small area at the same time? Nowhere. That's why I'm proud to call this wacky town my home. It's been good to me and I hope sometime I can return a little of that good. Well, like I said, every Christmas I get a little nostalgic. I think everyone should. It make looking forward to the future more fun. Have a Merry Christmas, and Good willing, we'll be together next year at this time." - Bob Joyce

"HOW daily columnists manage I'll never know! Perhaps the very dailiness of their tasks sets a habit pattern I lack. Though I'd have to list my ancient typewriter among my next of kin it's such a constant companion, it is used mainly for reviews and for publicity writing and has to be re-educated - along with the typist in thinking along column writing lines to bring you my annual Christmas and New Year greetings.

This year, however, I have a few crutches. At moments of inspiration I jotted down some notes and if I can only decipher them, ah yes, there's 'mystery Christmas cards.' This is quite pertinent because I just got around to removing a wine basket full of last year's cards from the living room in preparation for receiving this year's collection. Of course that means taking the old ones out of the win basket - which seems a logically gala depository - and looking them over, recalling the 'mystery Christmas cards' notation.

For example, there's the one signed 'Muriel, Ted, little Muriel, little Ted, Schnapsy, and Kittycat.' That is a mystery Christmas card! For the life of me I can't recall meeting any Muriels nor Teds, let along Schnapsy, though I do know a lot of Kittycats! There are more like that and we all get them. I can never decide whether I am forgetful and that 'Muriel and Ted' are actually dear friends and/or kin, or whether the senders are either supreme egotists or so naive they fancy anyone would know who they are with or without surnames. Whatever the case, there are always a number of such cards from persons unknown, who can never be thanked for seasonal good wishes.

The next note says 'Prima Star,' and indeed he is, but to me it has a second meaning. Most of us have been brought up on the beautiful story of 'a bright star shining in the east,' but all year round from our house can be seen a bright star shining in the north. It's the neon-lit blue star symbol on the front lawn of Louis Prima's Fairway to the Stars golf course, and it makes quite a conversation piece.

'On a clear day you can see Louis Prima's, I tell visitors, and prove it by taking them a lot to the roof deck to point out the club house and shining star.

Next notation: Don't call before 11. Now that's a Vegas story I love. Whenever I think our town's growing too large I remember there's Western Union as proof that it's still small enough to get the personal touch.

In my work as a review for this magazine I receive many telegraphed invitations to show openings, and over the years Western Union has apparently discovered that I'm a night person, who does most of her work in the quiet hours. In my early days here Western Union used to call me with telegrams at the customary 8 am, to be answered by a sleepy voice. But now, having deduced my nocturnal habits, they deliver all wires later in the morning, and when copies are sent me they're marked 'Don't Call Before 11.' If that isn't personal service I don't know what is! And, mind you, I never requested it - just never underestimate the intelligence, and thoughtfulness, of Western Union! . . .

The magic name Las Vegas triggers thoughts on how the town is growing. It seems frightfully urban to be able to drive as far north at Bonanza Road on the Los Angeles Freeway, but in the past of Paradise Valley where I live it's still happily rural. Although most of our neighbors are employed in the city, they're country folk at heart, and love animals and nature. They have pigeons and ducks, horses, cats, dogs, burros and goats. Since most of these creatures are roamers and very gregarious, it makes for some eventful times, like the day a burro kept breaking out of his corral to come up the road to call on a high-strung Arabian horse, causing the Arabian to go all to pieces at sight of what he obviously thought an outlandish looking critter with a big-ear beauty problem. The horse's spooky reaction worried its owner, who tried to evict the burro at the same time that animal's owner was running after him on foot with a lasso.

You can have your big-time rodeos - we got more laughs and excitement out of the great burro capture than at a world-roping championship!

The Arabian's friend and companion is a young goat, gregarious as all the rest of them. I was glad I don't drink the day I glanced out the door and saw a goat's head and a Pekingese's head, one above the other, both peering into the house. The peke is a favorite regular visitor, the goat more infrequent, which is just as well because the cute thing is very difficult to take home. Unless one gets a tight grip on the collar around its neck, it take refuge on the highest point it can climb, like the hood of one's car!

Since I have my office at home, surrounded by all these desert diversions, it makes forays into the esoteric world of show business that much more of an adventure. I usually arrive at a hotel on a reviewing assignment feeling like Alice In Wonderland, trying to make the sudden switch from the simple life to all the glamour. . . .

First time visitors to Vegas sometimes claim that town is cold forgetting that it feels cold anywhere when one is a stranger. But let them linger here a while, or come back often, and they will find an amazing warmth. I can well recall how lonely I felt when I first began going to our hotels to review the shows. I was especially awed by the elegant Maitre d's at the entrance to each room. Yet now when I see these charming gentlemen it's with a feeling of warmth, generated by long acquaintance with their invariable courtesy and friendliness, and the same is true of others in all walks of life.

It's a strange place to live, this Las Vegas. The desert wind blows and leaves sand piled on our window sills. It's often too hot in the summer and sometimes too cold in the winter. Yet fruit ripens on the trees, our gardens grow and so do our children, and our horses, and our goats. And hopefully we grow, too, in the deeper sense of the term. Certainly if being surrounded by interesting, creative, and kind people contributes to growth we should all stand tall as the beautiful nearby mountains, which surely will be snow-capped for Christmas. Best wishes for a happy one, and for a blessed New Year." - Mary Rettig

Calories Be Damned by Vern Lanegrasse
(Lanegrasse was a graduate of Loyola University and the College of Music in New Orleans; PR Director for NBC in Burbank; won the Louisiana Dairy Month Recipe competition; his recipes appeared in Sunset Magazine and the Sunset Cookbook)

County Gentleman's Salad

2 cantaloupes
1 cup French Salad Dressing
2 large cucumbers
1 cup sour cream
Salt and pepper to taste
Lettuce Cups

Cut, peel and seed the cantaloupes. Dice the meat and marinate in the French Salad Dressing of your choice. Place in refrigerator for at least an hour. Peel and finely slice the cucumber, sprinkle with salt and place in ice cubes in a bowl and let stand at least 1/2 hour. Drain the cucumber and toss in sour cream leaving in refrigerator another half hour. Drain the cantaloupe and place a healthy portion of each, cucumber and cantaloupe in the individual lettuce cups and serve.

Poulet Marengo Napoleon

1/2 cup flour
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup flour
1/2 teaspoon coarsely ground pepper
1/2 cup flour
1 teaspoon dried tarragon
3 pounds chicken
12 mushrooms slice
6 poached eggs (optional)
1/4 cup olive oil
1/4 cup butter
1 cup dry white win
2 cups quartered fresh tomatoes
1 clove finely chopped garlic
1/2 cup finely chopped fresh parsley

Mix salt, pepper, flour, dash accent in brown paper bag. Drop chicken pieces in paper bag, shaking till each piece is boated with flour. Reserve the remaining flour. In the meantime heat olive oil and butter in large skillet, when hot add chicken browning on both sides. Remove chicken to a large casserole (preferably earthen ware). Add the remaining flour to the skillet and let brown. Gradually stir in wine. When the sauce is thickened and smooth add mushrooms and garlic, cook until wilted, pour over chicken, add tomatoes. Cover casserole with lid and bake an hour. Before serving add poached eggs on top and sprinkle with parsley. Serves eight. I use the breasts of chicken and thighs instead of a complete chicken. This is strictly a personal preference.

Italian Spinach

2 10oz packages of frozen chopped spinach 3 tablespoons butter 3 tablespoons olive oil 1 clove garlic, finely chopped 1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper Salt to taste 1 cup Parmesan Cheese grated

Cook spinach as directed on package. Drain thoroughly. IN a skillet heat the butter and olive oil. Add garlic, salt and cayenne and cook over low heat five minutes. (I add 1/4 cup chopped chives sometimes just to give a different taste.) Combine the oil mixture with the spinach and toss. Sprinkle the cheese on top and drizzle a little more melted butter, place under broiler and brown quickly. Serve at once.

Mincemeat Ice Box Pie

1 qt. eggnog ice cream or French Vanilla ice cream
1 cup mincemeat
1 9" vanilla wafer pie crust
4 egg whites
2 tablespoons Brandy

Mix the ingredients together, place in crust and refreeze. If using French Vanilla ice cream I suggest you add the Brandy. I find if I use the eggnog ice cream its not needed. Just before, beat the egg whites as you normally do for a meringue. Place the meringue on top of frozen pie and place in a 450 degree oven, browning quickly, cut and serve. See if you don't get the raves of the year.

Far East Meatballs

1-1/2 lb. chopped Sirloin
1/4 cup commercial seasoned bread crumbs
2/3 cup minced onion
2/3 cup extra rich milk
2-1/2 tbsp. butter
1-1/2 cup diagonally sliced celery
2 green peppers, seeded, cut in strips
1 can bean sprouts
1 can (4 oz.) sliced mushroom
1/4 cup cornstarch
4 tablespoons soy sauce
2 medium onions, sliced thin
Salt, pepper, accent to taste

Mix chopped sirloin, salt, pepper, accent, bread crumbs, minced onion, and milk thoroughly. Makes 16 balls. Melt butter in large skillet over moderate heat. Add meatballs and turn, browning on all sides. Remove meat and add celery and pepper. When wilted remove from heat. Drain bean sprouts and mushrooms, reserving liquids. If needed add water to liquids to measure 2 cups. (If you wish it more hardy add beef broth instead of water.) Blend cornstarch with a little of the mixture to make a smooth paste, then blend in remaining liquid. Stir in soy sauce, return meat to vegetables and pour liquid mixture over all in skillet. Bring to a boil over medium heat. Cover and simmer until mixture is clear and thickened. Now add bean sprouts, onions (sliced) and mushrooms. Cover and simmer at least ten minutes. This dish can be put in a chafing dish and kept warm. On your buffet have a bowl of hot steam rice near. Serve each portion on a bed of rice.

Pickled Shrimp New Orleans Style

Prepare three pounds of shrimp. In other words boil three pounds or if you prefer buy three pounds ready to serve. So many people prefer to, as they hate to de-vine shrimp. I personally prefer to prepare my own. AFter they are ready to eat alternate the shrimp in layers with 4 medium onions sliced thin and bay leaves. Pour over each layer the following sauce, made by combining the following ingredients:

1-1/4 cup peanut oil or olive oil (strictly a personal preference)
3/4 cup warmed wine (white) vinegar
1-1/2 teaspoon salt
2-1/2 teaspoon celery seed
2-1/2 tablespoon capers and juice
1 tablespoon New Orleans style mustard
1/2 cup Worcestershire sauce
1/4 teaspoon Tabasco

Marshmallow-Tangerine Sweet Potato Casserole

2 lbs (about 6 medium size potatoes) sweet potatoes
1/4 cup melted butter
6 heaping tablespoon dark brown sugar
3 tablespoons brandy
1/2 teaspoon sale
1/2 teaspoon ginger
2 11oz cans mandarin orange slices or 4 fresh tangerines
Marshmallows

Take cooked and peeled sweet potatoes and whip together with 2 tbsp. of butter, 4 tbsp. of the sugar, brandy and salt to taste. Beat in ginger too. Fold drained mandarin oranges in or tangerines, removing the white membrane, cutting the sections into halves, removing the seeds, into sweet potato mixture. Pour into a well greased 2 quart casserole. Combine the remaining butter and sugar and cover top of casserole. Place marshmallows on top and brown slowly at 375 degrees.