After the Fall
When Leonid Brezhnev stumbled during the Vienna summit, Jimmy Carter gallantly helped the ailing Soviet leader keep his balance—but how might other politicians have handled the same delicate situation? According to the joke, of questionable taste, currently making the rounds in Washington:
Lyndon Johnson would have picked Brezhnev up by the ears.
Richard Nixon would have denied that Brezhnev fell.
Gerald Ford would have fallen down with him.
And Teddy Kennedy would have let him lie on the floor for 24 hours.
“I couldn’t sleep with a guy just because of his looks. I guess I was a lot more conservative than other chicks in that respect. I wanted to find out if there was anyone inside the body first.” The statement of principle comes from former Acid Queen Grace Slick, who recently bailed out of the rock group Jefferson Starship and at 39 is preparing to unleash her autobiography on the world. Among the observations—on love (“The tightest bond between two women is the same man”), on music (“Joplin and I were as different as asparagus and pomegranates”) and on the philosophy of the ’60s (“What is, is”)—Slick also reveals one way she survived the era: by keeping two bathroom cabinets, “one medicinal, the other for recreational purposes. I was always afraid of getting the mouthwash mixed up with the mescaline or the acid with the aspirin. Hell, that could be dangerous—too much aspirin could be fatal.”
No all-beef-patties-special sauce-lettuce-cheese-pickles-onions-on-a-sesame-seed-bun for Ray Kroc, the multimillionaire burger king who founded McDonalds. Kroc dropped in on a new Washington franchise, but as suppertime approached he disappeared next door to the chic Sans Souci to order—lobster, goose liver and fresh raspberry tarts. Instead, Sans Souci’s maitre d’ slipped out and returned with a surprise entree—a Big Mac. Kroc laughed but, obviously feeling he deserved a break that day, opted for the homard.
Alan Arkin, co-star of The In-Laws and father of three boys, is no fan of modern education. “I couldn’t care less if my boys even finish high school,” shrugs Arkin. “I haven’t seen where they’ve learned all that much from crabby instructors. All our schools teach you is how to be a good citizen, how to get into college—and to stop your education as soon as you get out of school. My teachers never thought I’d make it as an actor,” says Arkin, revealing perhaps one reason for his disaffection. “And word’s gotten back to me that at Los Angeles City College, which I attended, they still don’t think I’ve become one.”
Producer Bob Evans and screenwriter Arnold Schulman are fighting about who deserves blame for the screenplay of the ill-fated Players. Schulman partisans invited battle by buying ads in the Hollywood trade papers to insinuate that Evans had bastardized his good work. That brought a hoot from Evans. “If they ever published Schulman’s script—the one he turned in after 16 drafts,” says Evans, “it might make for interesting kindergarten reading.”
•Reported former basketball star Jerry Lucas, 39, after journeying to the Smithsonian Institution where his old New York Knicks uniform has been put on display: “I told my 4-year-old son I was coming to Washington to become a relic, and he told me he wanted some for his hot dog.”
•Ex-New York cop Eddie Egan, upon whose adventures The French Connection was based, will co-star next fall in an NBC detective series, Eischied. But he’s not satisfied yet. “My number one goal is still to be a ballplayer,” sighs Egan, 48 and frustrated. “Hopefully, Charlie Finley will wake up one day and say, ‘Where the hell is Eddie Egan?’ ”