[Editor: Extracts from the “Talk of the town” column, published in The Mail (Adelaide), 6 June 1942.]
Talk of the town
* Sharpening Blades
The shortage of safety razor blades, which has put many men on a one-razor-blade-a-week basis, has led many to experiment with various sharpening devices.
There is nothing new in the idea of using the inside of a drinking glass to hone the blade, but the latest plan is to pull the edges of the blade through a cork.
A man who adopted this method says that it gives the blade nine lives.
“There are lots of ideas on how to preserve blades,” said a city hairdresser. “Every man has his own liking.”
All citizens these days are urged to avoid waste and to save paper. One contributor to “The Mail,” who has taken the plea completely to heart, forwarded his article this week written on the backs of:—
Envelopes he received from the Australian Broadcasting Commission, Commonwealth offices, Adelaide Club, University of Adelaide, two marked O.H.M.S., and several plain ones, the backs of letterheads from a commercial broadcasting station, and a firm of city sharebrokers, and the back of a notice from the School of Arts and Crafts.
An accompanying note was written on the back of a notice from the Institutes Association.
* Tip for All
A lot of publicity has been given to the necessity for keeping a still tongue in these days of war. One contributor puts it pertinently so:—
He who yaps
Helps the Japs.
* Soldiers’ Code
Reports from America say that many letters from U.S. soldiers in Australia bear the inscription “S.M.P.R.L.H.” hand-printed on the envelope backs.
One man, baffled by the code, finally called on the postal authorities. They said:—
“Oh, yes, we’ve been noticing that. It seems to be a new Army fad. The official translation is, “Soldier’s Mail, Please Rush Like Hell.”
There was a time when Adelaide’s young lovers never dreamt of sending a letter to their swain without endorsing the envelope back “S.W.A.L.K.” — Sealed With a Loving Kiss.
Adelaide’s latest shortage has nothing to do with rationing, but rather with supply and demand. It’s unusual. too — girl friends for the younger boys working in reserved occupations.
This is how a baker boy, making a late call due to the new zoning, aired his grievance:— “You know, Mrs. ——, I wanted to go to a dance tonight, but I can’t find a girl to take. It’s terribly hard to find a girl anywhere, now all the Americans are round.
“As a matter of fact, my pal and I are sharing the one girl. She goes out with Jimmy one night and me the next. Unluckily, it is his turn tonight.”
When you work it out, there might be something in his grievance. Hundreds of girls in the services and doing voluntary war work are too tired to go out these nights, and the Americans certainly seem to have a monopoly of the available ones.
Since Japan entered the war things have been turned rather upside down. When the Nazi blitzkreig was at its height and Edinburgh was getting its share of raids as well as London, an Adelaide family with relatives in Scotland wrote to them, offering them a home in Australia, where they would be safe from bombs.
Last week, a letter arrived from the Edinburgh family, offering the Adelaide people a home there for the duration!
The Mail (Adelaide, SA), 6 June 1942, p. 4